


The Ulterior Motive

by Dancingdog



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Love, F/M, Fluff, Hate to Love, M/M, Slow Build, The WInchesters are jerks, The slowest of builds, at first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 12:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 187,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16367669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingdog/pseuds/Dancingdog
Summary: Dean likes to sleep around with anyone who'll spare him a glance. Gender, orientation and personality doesn't matter - he doesn't discriminate. The only problem is he's getting bored with how easy it is to coax his fellow students into bed. That's where the bet comes in.Everyone thinks Sam is polite and well-spoken and an absolute Angel to everyone he meets. He isn't. In fact, he poured milk over Gabriel Milton's head last year when the older man tentatively asked him out, becauseeww.Sam doesn't do old, broke and friendless. He does, however, make bets with his brother.If Dean can bed the University president's straight, wealthy son - Castiel - within a month, Sam has to date Gabriel until he graduates. If he can't bed Castiel, Sam gets the Impala; Dean's beloved car.Who will win the bet?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was borne out of a prompt from Facebook in the group 'Destiel Port'. The prompt came from JenSpinner and I tweaked it a little because I turn every Destiel fic into a joint Sabriel and Destiel story. Hope you enjoy it either way!
> 
>  
> 
> _Prompt: Dean sleeps around... a lot... Boys/Girls he doesn't care._
> 
> _Sam has the outward image of a polite young man, good grades, well spoken, but it's all just a cleverly planned out facade... He bets Dean that he can't bed the new headmasters son... Castiel. If Dean loses he has to give Sam his car... If Sam loses he has to give Dean his boat..._
> 
> _Castiel has heard rumours of the infamous Dean Winchester and is wary of him at first.. But Dean's charms begin to win Castiel over..._
> 
>  
> 
> Amazing cover art is by JenSpinner (she's just so helpful and brilliant!)

 

 

 

“I was particularly interested in your take on countries that have both privatised and national healthcare systems,” said Doctor Shurley with a small frown. “You compared the length and quality of life of those receiving both types of care, but in your conclusion, you implied those in the private sector are more entitled to the benefits of treatment as they have paid for it. It almost reads as though you believe that the upper class, or at least those with more money, are… more deserving of treatment than those with less funds. That… isn’t how you really feel, is it?”

Sam cocked his head to one side, eyebrows raised innocently. “I’m sorry if my conclusion didn’t read as I intended. I was merely pointing out how those with more money are more likely to receive faster and higher quality treatment, as they should because they have paid for those benefits. Those who are part of a nationalised healthcare system will be subjected to inexpensive tests and equipment, which is fair as nationalised systems are funded by the government or persons of power. They can’t afford to be spending large sums of money on national healthcare for the public when there are other places that need it.”

Doctor Shurley frowned, contemplating the answer before nodding hesitantly. “…I see. That… makes sense. Maybe alter the wording of your conclusion before you hand in your Literature Review. It reads as a little… unethical. Even though that’s obviously not what you had in mind,” he hastened to add.

Sam nodded with a small smile before making his way out of the lecture theatre and heading towards the sports department, where he knew Dean would be exiting very soon.

When he made it to the changing rooms, Dean was already waiting for him, arms folded as he glanced his brother up and down.

“What took you so long?” He grunted and Sam rolled his eyes as they began the walk to Sam’s favourite Thai restaurant. They could have made their way to the local greasy fast-food takeout for a quick meal, but that was where poor university students ate and was thus beneath both Winchesters.

“Chuck decided he didn’t like the tone of my Lit Review,” snorted Sam. “Thought it sounded like I was insinuating rich people should be entitled to better healthcare.”

Dean frowned and glanced at his brother. “Were you?”

The corner of Sam’s mouth pulled up into an ugly smirk. “Indubitably.”

Dean scrunched his nose up in confusion and Sam rolled his eyes. “It means of course I was. The idea of a national healthcare system is preposterous. If you can’t afford to pay for your own good health, then what’s the point of living? Health should be a person’s first priority; everything else is incidental. A national system encourages people to take up vices like smoking and alcoholism because they know any consequences will be paid for by someone else. That’s why countries with national systems will always be in debt.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds reasonable to me.”

“The problem is my lecturer is too much of a feeble-minded, pandering snowflake to see that,” scoffed Sam. “He believes our country should be more sympathetic to those who can’t afford treatment.”

Dean’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Why?”

Sam shrugged, sliding the latest iPhone out of his Armani jeans. “The guy’s an idiot.” He tapped at his phone. “Speaking of idiots, how’s over-glorified Phys. Ed.?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Nutrition and exercise science. Not Phys. Ed.”

“What’s the difference?” Huffed Sam just as he did every time they had this argument. “A bunch of guys run around in jock straps all day, either kicking, punching or headbutting each other until the only braincell they possess disintegrates. Then at thirty, they become sad, lonely, alcoholic drug-addicts and die of a heart attack or OD at forty. Did I forget anything?”

“Yeah. My course requires fewer sweaty guys piling into a group shower together. Also, unlike Phys. Ed., we learn that eating raw red meat as part of a protein diet doesn’t do anyone any good,” Dean said, straightening out his leather jacket.

“I could’ve told you that,” muttered Sam, eyes glued to his phone.

“Obviously, but you don’t get to spend afternoons with the cheerleaders, impressing them with not only your big brain, but also your hot body and intensive work out routine.” Dean smirked triumphantly at his brother and Sam pulled a face.

“Why would I want to waste my time with a bunch of slutty bimbos?”

Dean’s lips tugged upwards in amusement. “Why _wouldn’t_ you want people begging you to have sex with them? I can have anyone I want, any time I want, all because I look like a jock and have the word ‘science’ tagged on at the end of my degree. And I’m pretty too. It’s so hard having it all,” he teased, looking at Sam through his dark lashes.

Sam curled his lip in disgust. “You’re such a whore,” he huffed, shoving at his brother’s shoulder as they arrived at the restaurant. Dean laughed and they stepped inside, immediately being greeted by a flustered-looking waiter. He glanced over them nervously. They’d made a complaint against him last time they visited; one more strike and he was out.

Sam eyed him in disdain. “Have you learned the difference between diet and regular coke now?”

The waiter nodded harriedly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Great,” Sam drawled. “Maybe this time you won’t try to give me diabetes.”

The waiter bowed his head slightly. “Of course not, Sir,” he mumbled. “This way. Your usual table is ready.”

They always sat in the centre of the room. They liked to watch the other tables and be in the middle of the action. Everyone had to be able to see them because they were the centrepiece of the room and their expensive clothing and good looks never failed to draw attention.

They settled into their seats, practically barking out their drink orders and smirking when the waiter scuttled away quickly.

“Who are you texting?” Asked Dean curiously.

“Ruby,” Sam murmured, refusing to lift his gaze from his phone. “She’s been pestering me for another date. Wants to go to some concert in Florida or something.”

Dean pulled a face. “You still dating that psychopath? Chick’s on drugs, I swear.”

“She definitely is. I caught her stealing opiates from the college dispensary and she begged me not to tell anyone. I said I wouldn’t so long as she broke up with Azazel and told everyone we were together instead.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a little hypocritical of you? Thought you didn’t like junkies?”

“I don’t,” said Sam. “But she’s the hottest nurse on the unit and she’s younger than me. It’s good for my image, y’know? Plus, I hate Azazel and he genuinely liked Ruby, so watching his grades slip was fun.” Sam finally put his phone away and clasped his hands on the table as he gazed at his brother. “You bringing any whores home this weekend?”

Dean leaned back in his chair with a pinched expression. “Maybe? I dunno. I’m getting bored of cheerleaders and footballers.”

“Bring the Professor home again,” Sam shrugged and Dean grinned at the memory before shaking his head.

“Nah. She keeps worrying about getting fired and honestly, I can do without her annoying yammering. She’s getting kinda wrinkly anyway.”

“What about the art kids? They’ll probably be up for an orgy or seven. They’re all about passion and intensity, right?” Commented Sam and Dean chuckled at another memory before shaking his head.

“The sex is great but I can’t stand talking to them. They’re all a bunch of freaks.”

“What about the English students?”

Dean shuddered. “The last English major only spoke to me in iambic pentameter. I made him leave after the first hour.”

Sam snickered. His brother still didn’t know he’d paid Brady to do that.

They ordered food before speaking again.

“I heard the University President has a son,” remarked Sam, seemingly disinterested. “Mathematics. Word is he’s not bad looking.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother. “…Okay…”

Sam’s lips quirked upwards ever so slightly. “Blue eyes, dark hair, fairly tall, keeps himself in shape…”

Dean sat a little straighter. He had a thing for blue eyes and his brother knew it. “I’m listening.”

Sam inspected his fork idly. “Rumour has it he’s a virgin. One of those ‘saving himself for the right person’ types. He’s already turned a few people down.” Sam eyed his brother slyly. “Supposedly straight as an arrow.”

A slow smirk crawled across Dean’s face. One of his favourite hobbies was turning ‘straight’ guys bisexual (and on one occasion, one-hundred percent gay). Bonus points for when the guys (or girls) were prudes when it came to sex and he got them begging to suck him off within a week.

“His name’s Castiel, if you’re interested,” hummed Sam and Dean licked his lips in anticipation. This guy could be his project for the next week or so.

Sam watched his brother for a moment. “He’s not going to be easy.”

“Give me two weeks,” snorted Dean. “He’ll be on his bed, ass up, screaming my name.”

“I’m telling you, this guy is going to be tough to crack. You’re going to need at least three months.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “You willing to make a bet?”

Sam lifted his chin in interest.

“One month,” said Dean. “I bet I can get him into bed in one month.”

Sam smirked. “And if you can’t, I get the Impala.”

Dean stiffened. There wasn’t much he cared about in this world but his car was a close second to his brother. The Impala was the one thing he could rely wholeheartedly on. He could take her apart and rebuild her because he knew her body so intimately. He had so many memories of that car; she was the one place he felt free. The one place he could be himself in.

But, if Sam wanted to play dirty…

“Fine, but if I win, you have to date Gabriel Milton until you leave college.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “That’s four more years!”

Dean grinned. “Come on, Gabe’s not a bad guy,” he cackled.

Sam turned up his nose in disgust. “His major is in cooking! He’s a slob! He wears more food than what he actually presents in class. Not to mention he’s immature, annoying and a total dumb-ass. I can’t believe he actually got into college. He’s also completely broke.”

Dean chuckled. “Aww, Sammy… cut the guy some slack. He had a crush on you last year, remember?”

“He’s gross,” huffed Sam. “And he’s like… eight years older than me. He’s practically a paedophile.”

“Didn’t he ask you out last Christmas?” Grinned Dean.

Sam nodded. “As if he ever stood a chance. What was he thinking? It was so humiliating. I did put him in his place, mind you.”

“I bet it took him days to get the milk out of his clothes and hair,” laughed Dean.

“He was causing a scene; I had to shut him up somehow,” shrugged Sam.

“Well, if you want the car, you have to date him for the next month; can’t have me doing all the work,” Dean smirked. “If you win, you can dump his ass at the end of the month and I’ll give you Baby. If you lose, you continue dating him until you leave college.”

Sam scrunched his nose up in disgust but eventually relented. “And it all depends on whether you can get Castiel into bed or not?”

Dean nodded. “Do we have a deal?”

Sam regarded his brother carefully for a moment before holding his hand out.

“Deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel Novak, 26, already had two degrees; one in Foreign Languages and one in English Language and Literature. He had initially wanted to become a journalist, but his step-father, Zachariah Adler, hated the press and moved Castiel away from their home in D.C. to Florida as soon as he caught wind of fifteen-year-old Castiel’s dreams.

Determined to rebel against his step-father, Castiel had attended a Language and Literature course at the University of Florida, against Zachariah’s wishes. However, upon completing his second course of Foreign Languages, his mother, Amara, was involved in a car accident and died suddenly, leaving both Castiel and Zachariah heartbroken. Unable to cope with the memories within the house, Zachariah had forced Castiel to move to Claremont, California, where he had applied for a position as University president at Harvey Mudd College. Once he’d secured the position, he forced Castiel to study another course, stating he wouldn’t allow him to be involved with any sort of press.

There was a simple reason for Zachariah’s hatred of the press. In his position as president of Trinity Washington University, someone had spread rumours about him embezzling money from the university. The press had latched onto the story like vultures, hounding Zachariah for two years to the point where there had been an investigation and Zachariah had been suspended for three months without pay. There had indeed been a large sum of money missing from the university accounts, but it was later found to be the vice-chancellor who had stolen the funds. The university had offered a weak apology to Zachariah and refused to pay him the three months of salary he had lost, and whilst he didn’t exactly need the money, he was a man of principles and he quit a week after they asked him back.

So, Zachariah had no intentions of letting Castiel work with vultures, and that’s why Castiel was studying a course he was good at but wasn’t particularly interested in and why he didn’t exactly have the best of relationships with his step-father.

Zachariah wanted him to become an accountant. Castiel thought he should be able to do what he wanted with his life.

Castiel wasn’t a popular student by any means, but he wasn’t an outcast either. The friends he had he was close to and he was fairly well-respected amongst his peers and lecturers. He was polite and kept his nose out of trouble and he had just enough of a social life that many people knew he was a good guy even if they hadn’t met him personally.

“Bonjour, mon cher. Ça va?”

Castiel smiled and waited for Balthazar to catch up. He’d met the other man on his Foreign Languages course in Florida and Balthazar to this day swears he moved to Claremont for a change of scenery, not because he’d missed Castiel. Castiel thought his friend was a dirty liar and liked to tease him about it regularly because really; who moves to another state three weeks after their best friend has moved there?

“I’m fine, Balthazar. How are you?”

The shorter man grinned and slung an arm around his shoulder. “Marvellous! Have you heard the news about our dear friend Gadreel?”

Balthazar’s voice never failed to make Castiel smile. The man was French but he’d been living in America for so long that he’d developed a strange hybrid accent that hadn’t been helped by living in London, England for three years when he was younger. His whole speech pattern was a world war waiting to happen.

“No but I’m certain you’ll tell me,” chuckled Castiel as Balthazar’s grin widened.

“He finally asked Hannah to dinner.”

Castiel blinked. “Hannah Johnson?”

Balthazar nodded enthusiastically. “I happened to catch them last night at the new steakhouse in town. It was rather romantic. A candlelit dinner with live music via string quartet. I never realised Gadreel was so upper-class,” he teased.

Castiel’s lips quirked upwards in amusement. “Balthazar… why were you outside that steakhouse?”

His friend had no shame as he smirked. “I may have overheard Hannah gushing to her girlfriends yesterday about her ‘hot date’. I couldn’t quite believe anyone would refer to Gadreel as ‘hot’ so I had to make sure he was the one she was talking about.”

“So, you stalked them at the restaurant? Classy,” hummed Castiel as they made their way to their favourite bakery for lunch. As they crossed the road, they were soon joined by Gadreel, looking far more chipper than usual.

“So… dinner by candle light, huh?” Commented Balthazar.

Gadreel’s eyes rolled into the back of his skull. “I’m not even going to ask how you know that.”

Balthazar grinned.

Gadreel was a newer friend. He was studying a master’s in Criminology and often liked to complain how his course was technically six years long (even though he was already in his fifth year). The reason Castiel knew him was because Criminology was sometimes taught in the Mathematics lecture halls and Gadreel had once piled in beside Castiel, unpacked all his books and pens and listened to the lecturer drone on about differentiation for ten minutes before flicking his gaze around the room and realising he didn’t recognise anyone there. Castiel had expected him to pack his things away and creep out of the room, but instead Gadreel had shrugged, found a blank page in his note book and began solving the equation on the board, asking Castiel questions about formulae every so often.

It had become a bit of an inside joke for him and Gadreel to randomly turn up in one another’s lectures now. Every so often, they brought Balthazar or Meg with them.

Meg Masters was the youngest and last person to join their group. She studied Forensics and had introduced herself by boldly asking Castiel to sleep with her because he looked ‘hung as a horse’. Castiel had politely declined to the background laughter of Balthazar and the mortified expression of Gadreel. Meg had shrugged, asked if she could take them all out to lunch and they’d decided to keep her.

“Did you have a pleasant evening?” Asked Castiel as Balthazar practically leered at Gadreel. Ignoring the French man, Gadreel smiled at Castiel.

“I did. I finally asked Hannah out to dinner.”

“Did you?” Castiel hummed, feigning surprise. “Congratulations. I hope you both enjoyed yourselves.”

“You already knew, didn’t you?”

“Balthazar stalked you both.”

“Cassie!” Protested Balthazar as the taller man smirked and Gadreel stared at Balthazar, unimpressed.

“I’m going to pretend you did that because you care about my wellbeing and wanted to make sure I wasn’t in any trouble,” said Gadreel drily.

Balthazar clicked his fingers and pointed at Gadreel. “That’s exactly what I was doing.”

Castiel snorted as Gadreel elbowed their shorter friend.

“Is that an angel I see before me?”

Balthazar stiffened and slowly turned to the source of the voice, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Dean Winchester smirking at them.

“What do you want, Winchester?” He said coldly and the tone made Gadreel and Castiel stare at him in surprise. It was rare to see Balthazar tense.

Dean spared Balthazar a disinterested glance. “Oh hey, Balthy. How’s… art?”

“Music,” Balthazar bit out. “Again, what do you want?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “I thought you Europeans were supposed to be friendly? You’re all about love and acceptance, right? Why don’t you do an old pal a favour and introduce me to your handsome, blue-eyed friend?” He raked his gaze over Castiel’s body appreciatively.

“We’re not ‘pals,” snapped Balthazar heatedly. “And you can stay away from Castiel.”

Dean looked disappointed. “Balthy… is that any way to treat an old flame? We used to have a good thing going.”

Balthazar clenched his fists. “You’re a jackass,” he hissed. “And we had a thing going for two weeks before I found your sex tally and realised I was just part of some perverted challenge you had set yourself. Who keeps a record of how many different nationalities they’ve slept with?”

Dean pouted. “Balthy… I’m upset you think so little of me. I thought we had something special? I was so distraught when you broke up with me.”

Balthazar snorted and grabbed Gadreel and Castiel by their arms. “Allons-y,” he growled, swivelling on his heel and dragging both men with him.

He bristled when Dean fell into step with them. “I’m not here for you,” he shrugged. “As upset as I am about us drifting apart, I’ve actually come to ask if I can take Castiel out to dinner tonight. Or at least for a drink if you think I’m being too forward. I’ve seen you around a few times and I’ve never managed to drum up the courage to ask you out until now.” He smiled sincerely at Castiel. “Not only are you incredibly handsome, you’re really smart too and I’d like to get to know you a bit better.”

Castiel cocked an amused eyebrow and decided to play along. “How do you know I’m smart?”

“I’ve seen you in lectures,” shrugged Dean. 

“Oh? Which course do I take?”

Dean chuckled. “Mathematics. I accidentally sat in one of your classes and decided it was too late to leave. Why? Do you not believe me?”

Castiel didn’t reply as he regarded Dean. He’d heard of the man’s infamous reputation. Balthazar alone had told him enough stories and he’d been there to console his friend when he’d felt used and betrayed by Dean. Contrary to popular belief, Castiel wasn’t as naïve or innocent as everyone believed him to be and he’d heard all the tales of Dean’s conquests, regardless of gender. He’d also heard of the way the man lost interest in partners almost as soon as he’d got them into bed, sometimes never speaking to them again because he considered himself above them due to his wealth and supposed ‘charms’. Judging by the way he’d obviously researched Castiel before seeking him out, Dean wasn’t stupid either.

“My deepest apologies, Dean but I’m afraid you’re not my type,” sighed Castiel, pointedly turning away from him.

Dean grimaced. “…You’re straight, aren’t you?”

Castiel didn’t reply.

“Man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I didn’t really think this through. You just sounded so intelligent and amazing and I…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Can I at least buy you a drink? To apologise for my mistake?”

Castiel pretended to think about the offer for a moment. “That depends. Are my friends going to go thirsty?” He turned to Dean and bit back a smile at the man’s surprised expression.

“Um… I mean, I can buy them a drink too…”

Castiel smirked. “That’s very kind of you. There’s a vending machine over there. A Sprite would be great, thank you.”

Dean’s eyes widened as he glanced at the machine. “…That’s not really what I-”

“Coke pour moi, chéri,” drawled Balthazar, laying the accent on thick.

“Make that two,” said Gadreel, holding back a grin.

Dean glanced between the trio with a caught-out expression before nodding and shuffling away to the vending machine. He returned with three bottles and slipped his hands into his pockets, clearly uncertain where to go from there.

“Thank you, Dean. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, but we have somewhere to be,” said Castiel. “Good luck in your studies.”

“Asshole,” Balthazar added cheerfully as they continued their journey towards the bakery, leaving Dean to stare after them in confusion.

Once Dean was out of sight, Balthazar snorted and slung an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Castiel chuckled.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel Milton, 28, was having a bad week. To be honest, he’d had a bad life but he didn’t like to think too hard about that because it depressed him, so he’d rather tell everyone he was having a bad week.

His parents had disowned him at sixteen when they found him kissing one of his male classmates after school and things had only gone downhill from there, which was a neat trick considering his life had started in a pit to begin with.

He had two older brothers; Michael and Lucifer, who were always fighting, giving their little brother grief and causing drama within the family. Still, his parents had always favoured them because they’d wanted to be politicians like their father. Gabriel hated politics and wanted to be chef. His family thought he was a failure for not wanting to be like the rest of them and they had treated him as such.

When he was disowned, he’d been kicked out of the house and forced to live on the streets because his friends and their parents didn’t want the responsibility of taking an orphan into their homes. His grades had dropped and he fell asleep in class a lot because it was warm there, so his teachers thought he was a lost cause and somewhat of a troublemaker; especially when they found him sleeping on the doorstep of the school one night (they’d taken him to the Principal’s office and demanded to know what kind of prank he was pulling and when he told them he’d been disowned, the school rang his parents and received a heartfelt sob story from his mother about how her youngest son had run away and they hadn’t been able to find him and they were so _grateful_ that the school had located him. He’d promptly been kicked out of the house again that night).

After six months on the streets, he finally found a hostel to stay at and he dropped out of school and began working as a dishwasher in a local restaurant. Once he turned eighteen, the hostel also kicked him out. 

However, he had climbed the ranks to waiter and had a bit of cash in his pocket and experience under his belt and he managed to pick up a job at a three-star restaurant as a waiter. He found a cheap trailer to rent and worked hard for four years before he was given the opportunity to apply as a chef at his restaurant. He spent all his free time over the next five months trialling recipes in his trailer’s ancient kitchen and perfecting the dishes his restaurant sold and when it was time to show his boss what he could do, he blew the competition out of the water.

Three years later and he was head chef, earning a decent wage and attempting to save enough money to study Culinary Arts at university in order to open up a world of better job prospects. He thanked the restaurant for all they’d done for him, sold his trailer in Georgia and moved to Claremont in hopes that a good university name would make all the difference to employers.

Unfortunately, a good name meant extortionate tuition fees and Gabriel had been forced to pick up another job as a cook in a local café. He’d also had to forgo the luxury of a student flat and was currently living in a husk of an apartment without even a bed to lie on. At least he had a functioning fridge and bathroom.

Well, the fridge had been functioning until yesterday, when he’d returned home to a minor flood in his empty kitchen. A new fridge was an expense he had to save up for, which meant he’d be living on bread and dry food for a couple of weeks.

He’d also found out this morning that he had a bit of a rodent problem and they’d chewed at least one hole through every piece of clothing he owned (which wasn’t that many). Another expense he couldn’t afford right now.

“Gabriel, where is your hair net?” His professor huffed and Gabriel grimaced because for some reason, Professor Asmodeus Prince actively disliked him and made sure everyone knew about it.

Gabriel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, Sir, a rat the size of my foot ate it this morning.”

There were a few snickers from the younger students and Asmodeus narrowed his eyes in distaste. 

“If you can’t be bothered to bring the proper equipment to my class, leave. I don’t appreciate fools, Mister Milton.” With that, he marched over to the door and threw it open, gesturing for Gabriel to exit through it. Gabriel stared at him. 

“…Can’t I borrow one?”

Asmodeus huffed. “You never have the correct equipment. I have been patient enough and given you time to purchase the required utensils and ingredients, but you disappoint me each session. If you act like a high school student, I will treat you as such. Please leave my class, Mister Milton.”

Gabriel sagged. The man was quite correct; he often lacked equipment in these practical sessions because he couldn’t afford to buy everything. He bought the basics like pots and pans and spoons, but the more obscure equipment was often a little too expensive and even sacrificing his meals for a couple of days wouldn’t cut it. He tried his best, but apparently that wasn’t good enough.

He closed his eyes and rose to his feet before collecting all his equipment and ingredients and trudging through the door, wincing when it slammed behind him.

He leaned against the wall and slid down it with a sigh, staring at the new holes in his jeans.

“Do stores actually sell clothes like that?”

Gabriel startled, springing to his feet as he plastered himself against the wall, waiting for another carton of milk to be thrown over him.

Sam cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “O-kay.”

Gabriel narrowed a glare at the younger man. “Go away,” he huffed. “I’m not in the mood.” He threw his bag over his shoulder and clenched the pan he’d not been able to fit into the bag in his other hand. He began the walk out of the cooking department and scowled when Sam followed him.

“Okay, what do you want?” He snapped, whirling on Sam and wielding his pan at him threateningly.

Sam held his hands up. “Just wanted to see if you’d be interested in having lunch with me?” He smiled charmingly.

Gabriel squinted at the taller man. “No,” he snapped. He swivelled and stalked out into the sunshine.

“…Why not?” Sam asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

Gabriel shot him a withering glare. “Gee, I don’t know. Probably has something to do with the way you mocked me, called me a ‘slob’ and when I tried to defend myself, you poured an entire carton of milk over my head last time I gathered the courage to ask you out.” Gabriel shook his head. “I only asked you out for a drink because I thought you were nice and everyone always talks about how great you are. Guess I got to see your true colours, huh?” Head held high, he marched onwards, Sam frowning after him. 

Gabriel scowled when Sam caught up again. 

“Well, I’ve changed my mind. I want to see if things could work out between us.”

Gabriel snorted. “Unbelievable.”

Sam tilted his head. “What?”

Gabriel stopped and jabbed Sam in the chest with his frying pan. “You’re so arrogant! You haven’t even apologised and you expect me to just fall at your feet and go on a date with you? That ship has long since set sail. You need to get your head out of your ass!”

Sam shook his head incredulously. “What are you talking about? Last year you were begging for a date with me.”

“And you humiliated me!” Snapped Gabriel. “The only reason I liked you was because I thought you were the polite, kind, down-to-Earth guy everyone paints you as. Now I know it’s all a lie, so you can shove your date right where your head’s still stuck!”

Sam scoffed and crossed his arms. “The only reason you asked me on a date was because you want money. Well, here’s your chance. I’m asking you to go on a date with me and I’ll take you anywhere you want, no matter the cost.”

Gabriel recoiled in disgust. “What is _wrong_ with you?! Why would I want to date you for your money? I don’t care about your wealth! What don’t you understand about _‘I thought you were a nice guy, but you’re not’_?”

Sam’s gaze raked over Gabriel old, worn clothes, lingering on the holes in his shirt and jeans and the broken zip on his jacket, where the rats had tried to pull it off.

“ _Right._ You weren’t looking for money,” he drawled sarcastically and Gabriel bristled and had half a mind to swat the younger man over the head with his frying pan.

“You know what? Fine. I haven’t eaten anything in two days and a free meal sounds great. I’m craving burgers,” Gabriel finally exploded. He was tired and hungry and he just wanted Sam to leave him alone.

Sam smirked triumphantly and Gabriel nearly growled at him as he waved his pan at him.

“Even think about throwing anything on me and I’ll get my knives out, capisce?”

Sam sobered at that. “Where would you like to go?”

 

* * *

 

Gabriel felt a little better when he saw Sam’s face pale as they entered the greasy burger joint. The place was teaming with students and the air smelled like a heart attack waiting to strike. Still, Gabriel thought the food was delicious (although all food tasted delicious at this point of starvation) and he had no qualms about getting down and dirty as he picked up his towering burger and immediately smeared sauce over his face and fingers.

Sam stared at him in horror and he snickered, licking his lips obscenely. This was the most fun he’d had all week.

Sam dropped his gaze to his own burger. He’d tried to fill it with salad in hopes that it would look a little healthier, but there was no hiding the half pound of meat and cheese bursting over the base of the bun. He prodded at his fries warily and grimaced at the salt glistening up at him.

“If you don’t eat it, I’ll wrap it up and take it home with me,” snorted Gabriel, perking up when Sam pushed his plate away in distaste. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had lunch _and_ dinner.

“So, Gabriel. How… are you?” Sam asked awkwardly, looking away when the shorter man practically inhaled his fries.

“Drier than last time we met,” grunted Gabriel.

Sam frowned. “I mean how are you doing?”

“Well, I’ve got this irritating pain in my neck. It’s sat next to me.”

Sam huffed and crossed his arms. “You’re not making this easy.”

Gabriel smirked sardonically. “You’re not getting the hint.”

“You said you wanted to go on a date with me, I’m taking you on a date. You said you wanted me to be nice, I’m being nice. What more do you want?” Huffed Sam incredulously.

“I want to know what game you’re playing, Winchester,” hissed Gabriel. “What’s your angle? What do you get out of this?”

Sam scowled. “What makes you think I have an ulterior motive? Maybe I genuinely like you.”

Gabriel pursed his lips and folded his arms. “Last year you thought I was beneath you. You treated me like filth on the bottom of your shoe. Do you really expect me to believe you’ve had a change of heart? Do you expect me to still like you after what you did?”

Sam looked mildly offended. “Why wouldn’t you still like me?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and focused on his burger. “You know what? Forget it. I’m going to finish this and then I’m leaving. Stay away from me.”

Sam continued to stare at Gabriel, a look of confusion crossing his face. “…You genuinely hate me,” he said softly.

Gabriel snorted. “And the lightbulb finally flicks on.”

Silence answered him and after a moment, Gabriel risked a glance at the younger man. Sam was frowning at his untouched burger, but his expression wasn’t remorseful. If anything, it was thoughtful.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said after a couple of minutes and Gabriel whipped his head around so fast he heard a crack.

“Come again?”

“I’m sorry,” Sam repeated gently. “Let me make it up to you. Allow me to take you out for dinner tomorrow night.”

Gabriel scrunched his nose up unattractively and Sam cut him off before he could protest.

“As friends,” Sam assured. “Or… acquaintances, considering how you don’t like me.”

Gabriel eyed Sam distrustingly. He wasn’t one to turn down food when it was offered. “How do I know this isn’t a trick? How do I know you’re not gonna humiliate me the first chance you get?”

Sam shrugged. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Why? What’s in it for you?”

Sam circled his finger around the rim of his glass before taking a sip. “A chance to prove I’m not a terrible guy? A new friend, maybe? At the very least, moral redemption.”

Gabriel polished off his last fry, contemplating the offer. “…Alright, fine. You can take me out for dinner.”

Sam smiled but it was a shallow expression and made Gabriel shudder.

“Great. Give me your number and I’ll text you the details.”

Gabriel complied and frowned when Sam suddenly stood and handed him twenty dollars. “For the burgers,” he clarified before gliding out of the café, leaving Gabriel on his own.

He huffed irritably. Sam would never change and Gabriel had no doubts that there was an ulterior motive there. He just wished he knew what it was. 

He vowed to make tomorrow night difficult for Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if Harvey Mudd offers all these courses but for the sake of the story, I'm going to pretend it does :) I also realised I forgot to mention that the original prompt was modified from the plot of the movie 'Cruel Intentions'.


	3. Chapter 3

“Is it true?” Purred Meg as she joined him in Starbucks, double espresso in her palm. “Are you Dean Winchester’s newest target?”

Castiel raised an amused eyebrow. “Has Balthazar been gossiping again?”

Meg grinned. “More like venting his frustration in four different languages. He really hates Dean.”

“Can you blame him?” Snorted Castiel and Meg shook her head. 

“After seeing Balthy so upset, I think I hate him a little bit too.”

Castiel smiled. “If I am Dean’s latest ‘target’, he’s going to be sorely disappointed.”

“I’ve heard that before,” drawled Meg. Castiel frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Meg chuckled. “Lots of people say they won’t give in to Dean’s charms. Do you know exactly how many people have resisted him?”

Castiel shook his head and Meg smirked.

“Precisely zero. Every person he sets his sights on ends up sleeping with him in the end. If you really are Dean’s new project, I’d be worried.”

“Do you really think so little of me?” Asked Castiel drily. “Dean isn’t exactly my type.”

Meg shrugged. “That’s what most people say. He’s slept with religious types, straight guys, homophobic guys, professors, nerds, geeks, jocks, even a lesbian or two. He’s not the kind of person people say ‘no’ to.”

“There’s always a first,” Castiel murmured, eyes on the tall, broad-shouldered figure in the doorway. Meg turned to follow his gaze and quickly whipped around again.

“Want me to kick him in the nuts?” She whispered.

Castiel twitched a smile but said nothing as Dean made his way over with a smirk.

“If you want to sit inside, you’ll have to buy something,” drawled Castiel as Dean pulled out the seat opposite him. The younger man paused and glanced at him and Castiel shrugged. “That’s how cafés work.”

Dean straightened and headed towards the counter, ordering an americano before returning and settling into the seat opposite Castiel. His gaze roamed over Castiel’s notebooks and papers.

“That looks incredibly dull,” he said, shooting Castiel a million-watt smile. “How about you take a break and we can chat for a little? I’ve only got an hour before my next lecture.”

“Sounds great. Hi, I’m Meg,” Meg said sarcastically, holding her hand out for Dean to shake.

Dean smirked at her and shook her hand. “Hi, Meg. I’m Dean.”

“No shit.”

Dean grinned and glanced at Castiel. “Friend or girlfriend?”

“He’s my sugar daddy,” purred Meg, settling into Castiel’s side on the padded bench.

Castiel huffed out a laugh and curled an arm around Meg. “Friend,” he said and Dean’s smirk grew wider.

“Cool.” He tilted his head. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Meg scowled and Castiel squeezed her lightly to stop her from biting out any scathing comments.

“No,” he replied mildly and Dean leaned back in his chair smugly.

“I’m sure a smart, good-looking guy like you catches a lot of people’s attention,” Dean hummed. “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah and sucking up to him isn’t going to win you any favours, Winchester,” snapped Meg.

Dean’s expression faltered as Castiel’s lips quirked upwards in amusement.

“She’s quite correct,” nodded Castiel, a hint of teasing in his tone. Dean’s smug expression was wiped from his face and he sent Meg an unimpressed glare.

“Don’t you have a lecture or somewhere to be?” He huffed. Meg smirked and made a point of settling further into Castiel’s side.

“Not until two. Got a couple of hours left to bug Prince Charming,” she said sarcastically, gesturing to Castiel.

Dean’s mouth drew into a thin line. “I see.” He shifted his gaze to his coffee and drank from it moodily as he thought about his next approach to the situation.

“So, Cas… do you mind if I call you Cas?”

“Castiel is fine, thank you. I’m sure you can manage those extra two syllables,” Castiel said lightly and Dean snapped his mouth shut as Meg snickered.

“…Right. Castiel, then. What’s it like having the university president as a father?” Dean asked, clearly beginning to lose his self-assured confidence.

Castiel toyed with the plastic spoon in his tea. “Step-father,” he corrected quietly.

Dean blinked. “Oh. What does your biological father do?”

Meg stiffened, gaze suddenly fiery. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Winchester,” she hissed. “And I still can’t believe you’re so stupid that you haven’t got the hint you’re not welcome here! Do us all a favour and leave. Cas doesn’t like you and he never will so just give up!”

“My father didn’t want me,” murmured Castiel, ignoring Meg’s outburst. “He left my mother when I was born and I’ve never met him, nor do I want to.” He glanced sharply at Dean. “Make what you wish of that information.”

Dean looked surprised, both by Meg’s rant and Castiel’s confession. He stared at Castiel for a moment before regaining his composure. 

“So, you and your mother are close then?” He asked, unsure what else to say. Castiel smiled bitterly.

“We were. She died three years ago in a car accident.”

Dean deflated and dropped his gaze to his cup. “…I’m sorry.”

Castiel smiled hollowly. “No, you’re not.”

Dean’s gaze snapped up to Castiel’s hard stare and he opened his mouth before clamping it shut again. He quickly chugged the rest of his coffee and stood, pushing his chair under the table before slipping out of the building without a word.

Meg wrapped a comforting arm around Castiel and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Hopefully he won’t come back. The last thing you need is him trying to get you into bed.” When there was no reply, she glanced up at him sadly. “You okay?”

Castiel nodded minutely, still stirring his tea. 

Meg’s gaze softened and she leaned into him again, offering silent support. He held her a little closer and hoped she understood how grateful he was to have her.

 

* * *

 

“…Do all your clothes have holes in or is this a new fashion trend I’ve missed?”

Gabriel glanced down at his one good shirt. Well, it had been good until the rats had found it.

“I uh… have a rat problem and haven’t been able to go shopping yet.” A half lie was better than a full lie, right? Sam didn’t need to know just how out of cash he was.

Sam frowned and glanced around the restaurant, probably hoping the rich clientele hadn’t noticed Gabriel’s poor attire. Gabriel shrunk into his seat when he realised the table beside them where already whispering and tittering to themselves.

“You have a rat problem?” Sam lowered his voice in disgust. Gabriel shrugged and dropped his gaze to the silk tablecloths. He was half terrified at the prospect of seeing the prices on the menu.

Sam shook his head and smiled when the waiter appeared at their table, offering them two menus and a wine list.

“Chateau Margaux ’96, please,” Sam smiled politely and the waiter nodded.

“Very good, sir,” he said before bustling off and Gabriel knew just by his expression that the wine was expensive. Gabriel wrinkled his nose. He hated wine. It all tasted like crap. Give him a fruity cocktail any day.

Sam picked up his menu and began browsing through it and Gabriel frowned at his own. It looked more like a Tolkien novel than a menu. There was even a foreword from the owner and the chef.

When he finally found the food, he suddenly forgot how to breathe. He’d never seen triple digits on a dish before.

Sam cocked a smug smirk. “Everything alright, Gabriel?”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Yep. Peachy.” He pressed his nose into his menu again and tried not to have a heart attack as he turned the page and saw the prices jump by a hundred dollars.

Sam’s smirk widened. “Do you understand what the dishes are?”

…Okay, that was just straight-up condescending.

Gabriel scowled. “Yes. I’m quite aware that _Tête de Veau_ is boiled calf’s head and is served with the brain in the centre of the plate and the slices of tongue beside the mix of vegetables and head meat. I’m also pretty accomplished at _Gamjatang_ which, I’m sure you know, is a spicy Korean stew made using pork. I’m actually rather disappointed that the chef seems to have substituted the perilla for sesame seeds if the dish explanation is anything to go by.” He smiled tightly at Sam.

Sam blinked, opened his mouth then quickly snapped it shut again.

“…Oh,” was all he said, still staring at Gabriel in shock.

“But what do I know?” Said Gabriel sarcastically. “I’ve got holes in my socks.”

Sam’s eyes widened a fraction before he quickly focused on his menu again. Gabriel rolled his eyes and continued perusing his menu, wondering why everything was priced so highly when he could make half the dishes in his old trailer kitchen for a sixth of the price.

The wine came soon after that and Gabriel bit back a groan at the whole pointless ritual of pouring a drop of wine into Sam’s glass, him swirling it around, smelling it, sipping it, nodding as if he was giving it the stamp of _Winchester Approval™_ and the waiter proceeding to pour them each half a glass. Gabriel had half a mind to ask the waiter to pour him a full glass, just to see if the man would choke in horror and slap him with his tiny towel.

Gabriel sipped at his glass and decided he still hated wine.

Sam eyed him calculatingly. “Satisfactory?”

Gabriel swirled the deep red liquid around his glass. “Remarkably smooth with only a hint of acidity. It’s surprisingly elegant and issues the delicate aromas of raspberries, cooked strawberries and black truffle as well as the rich scents of oak and leather. A pleasantly versatile wine.”

Sam’s eyebrows rocketed towards his hairline. “How… insightful.”

Gabriel snorted inelegantly and dropped the glass on the table. “I think it tastes like shit.”

Sam blinked.

“How do you like that stuff?” Asked Gabriel. “I’d rather drink a cup of vinegar than have to pretend to enjoy that crap. In fact, I think it makes you even thirstier than how you started.”

Sam frowned and glanced at his own glass. “It’s not about quenching thirst. It’s about the adventure the different flavours take you on. It’s about the memories you recall whilst inhaling the aromas.”

Gabriel stared blandly at Sam. “Do you like it?”

Sam shifted uncomfortably before placing his glass on the table. “…Not really.”

Surprised at an honest answer, Gabriel straightened. “Oh. Well, what drinks do you like?”

Sam glanced around almost worriedly before lowering his voice and staring at his lap. “I don’t know. Whisky? Brandy? Anything sweet.” He lowered his voice even further. “…Beer?”

Gabriel couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He also couldn’t believe that Sam actually looked ashamed of admitting to liking beer.

“…Then why did you order a ridiculously expensive bottle of processed grape juice if you don’t actually like it?”

Sam shrugged a shoulder. “Because everyone else in here has?”

Gabriel looked around and sure enough, every single table had a bottle of wine adorning it, some with ice buckets, some without.

“I can guarantee seventy percent of the people in here will have the same amount of wine left in their bottles when they leave as what they have now,” huffed Gabriel. “Why do you care what they’re doing anyway? If they all jumped off a bridge, would you?”

Sam shook his head, refusing to meet Gabriel’s gaze and Gabriel couldn’t bite back a smile because he looked more like an unhappy child than a snotty, rich jerk.

“Hey, Sam. If you like something, don’t listen to what other people say. If they have an issue with something you do, that’s their problem, not yours. If you want a Bud, you get one. If you want a JD, you get one. If you want a fruity, pink cocktail, stuffed with cherries and topped with a tiny umbrella, get me one too.”

It was enough to startle a quiet laugh out of the younger man and Gabriel grinned back. 

“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something,” murmured Sam as he eyed Gabriel’s abandoned wine glass and the older man shrugged. 

“You’re not the only one who likes sweet things.”

A small smile tugged at Sam’s lips and as he glanced down again, almost shyly, Gabriel couldn’t help but think how young he looked. This wasn’t the arrogant snob he was accustomed to.

“How old are you, Sam?” He asked softly.

“Twenty,” murmured Sam and Gabriel was once again struck by how innocent Sam actually was. He was barely out of his teen years and had so much of the world to experience yet. He had so much to look forward to and he wouldn’t have to spend his life hungry and alone and miserable like Gabriel had. The world was Sam’s oyster.

But it wouldn’t all be rainbows. Sam had yet to experience disappointment and humiliation and the terrible feeling of being a failure. Life came with its ups and downs and Sam had only found the tip of the iceberg.

Suddenly, Sam’s age sunk in.

Gabriel stared at the bottle of wine in the middle of the table.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be drinking,” he hissed and Sam smirked and shrugged.

“My height comes in handy. People tend to think I’m older than I am.”

“You criminal,” Gabriel teased. “Forget what I said earlier. You’re getting apple juice. _Oh, waiter!”_

“Gabriel!” Sam protested in a hushed voice, which only made Gabriel grin and call louder, holding a hand up to garner attention.

“Waiter!”

“You’re causing a scene!” Whispered Sam heatedly, glancing around with a nervous expression.

“So, what?” Chuckled Gabriel. “This is probably the most excitement most of these people have had all week.”

“Gabriel,” Sam pleaded as the waiter glided over with a thick scowl.

“Sir?” He almost growled, eying Gabriel in distaste.

“My friend has remembered he has to drive home. Would you mind bringing him some apple juice?”

“Gabriel.”

“In a sippy cup?”

“Gabriel!”

“Alright, a pint glass.”

The waiter arched an eyebrow and looked over at Sam in disdain, making the younger man stiffen.

“Of course, Sir,” the waiter smiled tightly, bustling away once more.

Gabriel chuckled as other customers began to mutter amongst themselves, some glancing at them as though scandalised. He was happy to provide entertainment. He turned back to Sam but froze when he saw the furious glare the younger man was shooting him.

“What?” Gabriel asked with a frown and Sam clenched his jaw and rifled through his wallet viciously before pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills and slapping them on the table. Then he stood and marched out of the building with a snarled _“Asshole.”_

Gabriel stared at his retreating figure in confusion and scrambled to his feet, chasing after him. Once they got outside, he grabbed Sam’s wrist.

“What’s your problem?” He huffed.

Sam snatched his arm out of Gabriel’s grip. “You humiliated me!” He snapped. “You made me look like… like…”

Gabriel could already feel his temper rising and he crossed his arms. “Like what, Sam?”

“Like you!” Sam exploded. “Like a poor-mannered idiot!”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Oh trust me, kid. You don’t need any help with that.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “At least I’m not an immature, attention-seeking loser.”

“You sure about that?” Scoffed Gabriel. “Because the way I see it, you go to expensive restaurants and buy expensive wines just because you want to impress other people. You want to make yourself seem important when you’re anything but. You place so much value on other people’s opinions that you go out of your way to buy things you don’t even like, just so you can fit in. Is that not what an _immature, attention-seeking loser_ does?”

“At least I don’t go out of my way to embarrass myself,” snapped Sam. “At least I don’t disturb other people and make a fool out of myself just because I’m bitter about other people’s wealth. At least I try to live up to other people’s expectations!”

“You think I’m bitter about you having wealth?” Laughed Gabriel. “I couldn’t care less about how much money you have! When I go out, I want to have a good time. I don’t care about what strangers may think of me. I care about myself and my company. If we’re having fun, what does it matter about other people’s expectations?”

“You call that ‘having fun’?” Sneered Sam.

“Well maybe if my company wasn’t a condescending, bratty child, it could have been,” Gabriel spat. “Just because we’re not all medical students, it doesn’t mean we’re stupid. You’ve got a lot to learn about respect, Sam. When you do, maybe you’ll have real friends instead of the type that you have to buy.”

Sam bristled. “Screw you,” he hissed.

“Aww, did I hit a nerve?” Mocked Gabriel. “Grow up, kid. Not all your problems go away if you throw milk at them.”

He whirled on his heel and marched away. “But fortunately, I will,” he tossed over his shoulder, leaving Sam in the middle of the dark street, fists clenched and body shaking with anger.

 

* * *

 

It was two days later when Castiel was once again approached by Dean. Lectures were over for the day and he was just leaving the mathematics department in hopes of getting home and having an early dinner for once, when he spotted Dean waiting for him. He sighed silently and contemplated turning around and walking in the opposite direction, but Dean had already caught up to him before he’d made a decision.

“Wait up,” Dean called when Castiel tried to whirl on his heel. “I’ve got something for you.”

Intrigued, Castiel paused and turned back to Dean to find the man holding out a box of delicious-looking _Dunkin’ Donuts_ of various colours and toppings. He glanced up at Dean suspiciously.

“I wanted to apologise for the other day. Meg was right. I had no right to pry into your personal life, so… here. Take these.”

Castiel tilted his head at the box of half a dozen doughnuts and gingerly took it. “Um… thanks.”

Dean smiled. “Try one. They’re fresh.”

Castiel picked out a chocolate one with what appeared to be biscuit crumbles sprinkled over its surface.

“I really am sorry about your mother, by the way,” Dean said softly. “It must have been such a shock. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through.”

Castiel took a careful bite of the doughnut, swallowing it before speaking quietly. “It was. It’s why we moved to Californ- Are there peanuts in these?”

Dean frowned in confusion at Castiel’s wide-eyed gaze and suddenly pale face.

“Uh… maybe? I’m not sure. Why?”

Castiel dropped the doughnut in his hand and shoved the box at Dean frantically. Puzzled, Dean took it and watched Castiel open his mouth and gasp in large breaths of air before coughing throatily.

“Hey, are you-”

Dean was cut off as Castiel suddenly vomited over him. Twice.

Castiel placed his sleeve over his mouth, staring at the dripping Dean in abject horror. He coughed into his arm uncontrollably and tried to shake his head in apology, before realising that only increased the rate at which the vomit was rising up his throat. He swivelled on his heel and scarpered off to the nearest toilet, leaving a soggy Dean and his equally soggy box of doughnuts standing outside the mathematics department.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, JenSpinner has been pestering me all week to put this new chapter up ;) 
> 
> And as for Castiel being allergic to peanuts... I'm allergic (or at least intolerant) to peanuts and I'm ashamed to say that this sort of thing happens to me more than I'd like to admit XD


	4. Chapter 4

“You threw up on him?” Howled Balthazar, eyes crinkling in delight as Castiel’s face heated in shame.

“I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled. “I should have asked him about the contents of the doughnuts first.”

“That’s what you get for not sharing,” teased Meg, elbowing him in his side.

“Was it like that scene in _The Exorcist_ where her head swivels three hundred and sixty degrees and she projectile vomits all over the priest?” Grinned Balthazar.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “No. I threw up on him and then I left.”

“Classy,” hummed Gadreel.

Castiel let his head fall into his hands. “It was either that or throw up on him again!”

“You did it twice, why not make it a third?” Chuckled Meg. “Might have been good luck.”

Castiel sent her a withering glare. 

“On the bright side, at least you’ve got no chance of getting into his bed now,” chirped Balthazar cheerily. “Unless he’s into vomit play.”

Castiel shuddered. “Thanks for burning that image into my brain.”

Balthazar grinned and popped another grape into his mouth.

Castiel sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I can’t just leave things like that. I have to go apologise to him.” 

Balthazar snorted. “I say leave him. He deserves your rancid stomach contents.”

“Nobody deserves my puke,” huffed Castiel grumpily. “Not even Dean Winchester. I need to apologise.”

“He’s over there if you want to talk to him,” Meg said, pointing to the other side of the hall, where Dean was obviously looking for someone.

Castiel watched him for a moment, weighing up whether to approach him after yesterday, before finally standing and shuffling towards him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean startled, looking surprised to see him. “Um… hey.”

Castiel was sure his face was beet red. “…I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I promise I didn’t mean to do… that,” he finished awkwardly.

Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably. “No, I know. I get that. I assumed you don’t usually go around throwing up on people.”

Castiel winced. “No. Definitely not. Although it’s not the first time it’s happened,” he admitted ashamedly.

Dean arched an eyebrow. “…Right.” He glanced around, clearly still trying to find someone, before focusing on Castiel once more. “So… you’re allergic to peanuts, huh?”

“Whatever gave it away?” Castiel said drily before shrugging a shoulder. “It’s more of an intolerance really. I don’t need an Epipen.”

“But you’re okay now, right? No gasping or anything?” Asked Dean sounding genuinely concerned and Castiel blinked up at him in shock before shaking his head.

“No. Like I said, my trachea doesn’t close up all the way because it’s not a full allergy. Thanks for asking though.”

Dean offered him a small smile and Castiel hesitantly returned the expression. “I feel like I should make things up to you,” he confessed.

Dean contemplated the idea for a moment before smirking. “Come out with me and my friends tonight.”

Castiel frowned. “I was thinking something along the lines of buying you a box of doughnuts.”

Dean grimaced. “Yeah, I think I’ve been put off doughnuts for life after seeing five of them swirling in your puke yesterday.”

Castiel winced. “Sorry.”

“So, come out with me tonight,” insisted Dean. “Have a drink with me and my friends, dance a little, sing off-key. We’ll be going to whichever club has the loudest music.”

Castiel glanced over at his friends on the other side of the room, who were all staring back at him like a trio of demented cats.

“I promised to spend the evening with my friends,” Castiel confessed, jerking a thumb towards their table. Dean glanced over at them and sighed.

“Then bring them with you. The more the merrier, right?”

Castiel’s eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. “…You’re okay with that?”

Dean shrugged. “Why not? Give me your number and I’ll text you where to meet us.”

Castiel’s lips tugged upwards in amusement. “Smooth.”

Dean smirked. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m merely texting you a time and an address.”

“And you’ll conveniently have my number for sending dick pics to at a later date.”

Dean barked out a startled laugh. “Give me some credit,” he protested. “…Unless you’re into that sort of thing,” he winked.

Castiel gave him an unenthusiastic look and Dean held his hands up. “Straight. Got it. Number?”

Castiel relayed his number and received a text from Dean once he was finished.

“I’ll see you tonight,” nodded Dean as Gordon Walker approached them, a suspicious look on his face as he eyed Castiel.

Castiel nodded back and scurried off to his friends before Gordon could pick a fight with him; the man was known for his temper.

“Did you just give him your number?” Demanded Meg as soon as he sat down and Castiel nodded. 

“He invited us out with his friends tonight and I said yes because I vomited over him and don’t want to look like a total jerk,” explained Castiel before anyone could lay into him.

Balthazar huffed. “I’m not going out with Dean and his minions. Some of them are arguably worse than Dean himself.”

“We probably won’t see him all that much,” reasoned Castiel. “These nightclubs are usually bursting with students. We’ll be lucky if we see them at all. They’ll go their way and we’ll go ours. We won’t have to interact with them.”

Balthazar toyed with his drink. “I suppose that’s acceptable.”

Castiel smiled. “It’ll just be the four of us having fun. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

“Um… actually, it’ll be three of you,” murmured Gadreel. “I have a date with Hannah this evening.”

“Two dates in one week? She must really like you,” teased Balthazar. “You sure you’re not paying her?”

Gadreel elbowed Balthazar, making him snicker.

“Unlike you, I don’t inflate my dates,” scoffed Gadreel. “Nor do I unpack them from a box.”

Balthazar gasped. “Is your mother aware you know what dildos are?”

“Is your mother aware you like to shove beads up your ass?” Snorted Gadreel, making Meg cackle and Balthazar groan pornographically.

“Mais oui! Talk dirty to me, baby,” he purred, draping himself over Gadreel’s shoulder and laughing when he was roughly shoved away.

“C’est assez, Balthazar,” Castiel chuckled, shaking his head. “Gadreel isn’t fully accustomed to your filthy mind yet.”

“Mais tu es,” hummed Balthazar coyly, lacing his fingers over Castiel’s.

“That’s because I’ve known you far longer,” commented Castiel, squeezing Balthazar’s fingers lightly before releasing them. “Gadreel, I hope you enjoy your date.”

Gadreel nodded in appreciation as Meg watched Dean interact with Gordon and Alastair; another man known for his questionable morals and wealth.

“So, are we really going on a night out with these guys?” Asked Meg and Castiel shrugged. 

“If you’re up to it?”

Meg nodded and after some deliberation, Balthazar nodded reluctantly. “As long as we don’t have to talk to them,” he grumbled.

“Alright. Meet up at my place and we’ll get a cab from there,” said Castiel, gaze drifting to Dean.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel had just finished pouring a trickle of brandy on his baked Alaska and was ready to set it alight and take the picture for his portfolio. Baked Alaska was one of his favourite desserts (even if he didn’t get to eat desserts that often), but it was also one of the hardest to make, alongside soufflé. Keeping the ice cream cold inside the dessert whilst cooking the outside cake and meringue was an art form that Gabriel had mastered late Saturday evenings in his old restaurant. He’d always been the one to lock the restaurant up on those days, but he didn’t mind because practicing his culinary skills was better than going back to his beaten-up trailer.

He was proud of how this creation had turned out and even Asmodeus had admitted he couldn’t find any fault with it. 

When the session was over, he wrapped his creation in foil and couldn’t wait to take it home and eat it, which was why he grew irritated when he found Sam hovering outside the kitchen, waiting for him. He tried keeping his head down and pressing himself further into the throng of students leaving his class, but Sam easily spotted him.

“Gabriel, wait.”

He sighed and adjusted his bag, tucking his dessert into the crook of his free arm.

“What do you want, Winchester?” He huffed.

Sam padded over, gaze low. “I wanted to apologise for losing my temper last night. I shouldn’t have said those things about you.”

Gabriel stared at the younger man, stunned. “…Well then, I guess I’m sorry for causing a scene too,” he admitted because it takes two to start an argument, right? “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” 

Sam straightened, clearing his throat. “I was wondering if we could start again? Maybe try something a little less… formal?”

“…What did you have in mind?” Gabriel asked cautiously.

“Takeout at my place? Or your place if you’d prefer,” shrugged Sam.

Gabriel eyed Sam warily. He still wasn’t sure what game the younger Winchester was playing, but if he continued to get free meals out of it, he wasn’t going to complain.

“Takeout at your place sounds great.” No way was he letting Sam into his empty, rodent-infested apartment. He glanced at his baked Alaska for a moment before sighing in defeat. “I’ll bring dessert,” he said gesturing to his creation. He’d really been looking forward to scarfing it all down by himself.

Sam looked at the mountain of foil warily, as if a rat was about to crawl out from underneath it and latch onto his face.

“Great,” he said with absolutely no enthusiasm.

Gabriel frowned and thought how Sam didn’t deserve his dessert anyway.

“Do you… do you need to change?” Asked Sam, inspecting his hole-ridden clothes with a hint of aversion.

“No,” Gabriel huffed unhappily. All his clothes looked like this.

Sam gazed at him a moment longer before pivoting on his heel and prowling out of the culinary department, obviously expecting Gabriel to follow. Their walk was silent and uncomfortable until they reached Sam’s Lamborghini, which made Gabriel balk because seriously? What kind of student drives a yellow Lamborghini to college?

Gabriel winced as he ducked inside the car. Whilst the exterior was sleek and sexy, the interior was anything but. The seats were hard and the opposite of comfortable. The dash was bulky and the arm rest littered with buttons and dials which looked more fitting in a cockpit than a car. Not only that, but the car was so low, Sam had trouble actually getting into it. 

Once again, Gabriel wondered why Sam had bought something so expensive yet unnecessary. 

“…Nice car,” Gabriel said, for lack of inspiration and Sam didn’t even glance at him.

“I suppose,” he commented.

They lapsed into silence once more as Sam drove them to his home.

 

* * *

 

“…You live in a penthouse suite?” Blanched Gabriel.

Sam shrugged and parked the car in the private, underground garage. “Only during term time.”

Gabriel swivelled his head to gape at Sam. He couldn’t even begin to imagine possessing that kind of wealth.

“Our place is on two floors. I’ll give you a tour.”

Gabriel followed Sam into the reception hall, eying the security nervously. They didn’t look too pleased to see someone as scruffy as him entering the building. Sam sauntered into the elevator – a spacious thing with plush, red carpets and oak walls adorned by huge mirrors – and inserted a key into a hole at the top of the button panel. The lift began to move and didn’t stop for a good few seconds before finally reaching the top floor. Sam sauntered out into a marble hallway, hands in the pockets of his suit jacket.

He pulled out another key and opened the only door on that floor and Gabriel gaped at the luxury inside. 

The carpets were an inviting red, soft and thick to complement the cream walls, which were littered with various pieces of art, all from different periods. The space was open plan, with the dining room, lounge and library all merged as part of one huge room. Also in this space was a glass staircase leading to the second floor, which overlooked the first via a long glass balcony. That floor appeared to house the bedrooms and bathrooms (of which there were two of each) and a study space which contained a grand piano, an art easel and various other things the Winchester brothers never used. In the downstairs lounge area, beside the huge, plush couches and large coffee table, stood a sizeable hot tub, currently closed over by a leather cover. The book cases were full and looked well-used and beanbag chairs lay in front of them, as well as stylish lamps and little tables for drinks and snacks whilst reading. Next to this area was a glass door that led out onto a small garden area overlooking the city. It was lit by tiny LEDs in the floor.

Gabriel felt like a child in a candy store.

“This is amazing!” He blurted and Sam’s lips tugged up briefly before he gestured towards a door leading from the lounge space.

“Gym is in here,” he said, opening the door to let Gabriel peek inside. There were training mats, a rowing machine, a treadmill, exercise bike and weights scattered around the room. Gabriel suddenly understood why Sam looked as broad and strong as he did.

They moved onto a second door. “And this is the kitchen.” Sam swung the door open to reveal one of Gabriel’s wet dreams.

An island kitchen with oak cupboards and marble counters greeted him. There was a row of windows above the sink, overlooking the city, and a designer hanging rack above the island counter, displaying every pot and pan any chef could ever want. There was an ornate spice rack in one corner of the room and a wine rack in another. Even the fridge looked like it would talk back if Gabriel spoke to it. The place was full of gadgets and gizmos that Gabriel had either never seen or used and he wanted to try all of it. The room was beautiful and looked barely used.

His feet led him inside without him noticing and he stared around the room in wonder. 

Sam observed him carefully. “Feel free to poke around,” he said quietly and Gabriel wasted no time in inspecting the high-tech blender and double ovens, as well as the fancy induction hob and something that he didn’t know the name of, nor what it did, but thought it looked utterly amazing with all its shiny steel.

“You can get boiling water straight from your faucet!” Cooed Gabriel, eyes sparkling in awe at the extra device installed on the tap. “That’s so cool!”

He glanced around again, opening cupboards and drawers because what else could this place do?

Sam leaned against the doorway, watching him with an amused smile.

“We rarely use the kitchen,” Sam commented. “I mean, Dean does sometimes, but usually we eat out or get takeout. I’m not even sure what all that stuff does,” he said, gesturing to some of the more obscure devices.

Gabriel gasped in horror. “That’s terrible!” He said, gaze flicking around the kitchen once more. “I would live in here if I could. I’d never leave.”

Sam regarded him silently and Gabriel smoothed his hand over the marble island top. 

“You know what? Screw takeout,” Gabriel announced suddenly. “I’m going to make you something. This kitchen is well-stocked enough.” He turned his attention to the surprised Sam. “What do you want for dinner?”

“…I… uh…”

“What are you craving?” Gabriel asked. “And I don’t mean what do you think will impress me, I mean what do you love eating and would like to have tonight?”

Sam clamped his mouth shut, gazing at Gabriel for a moment before licking his lips.

“Jambalaya?”

Gabriel smirked. “You like your Southern comforts, huh? Alright. We can do that. Come on, help me chop some veg.”

Sam blinked and slowly migrated into the kitchen, watching as Gabriel pulled onions, tomatoes and peppers from the fridge. He whirled around the kitchen, retrieving herbs and spices and various utensils as though he’d been working in this kitchen all his life.

“Crush the cloves, dice the peppers,” Gabriel commanded, handing garlic and peppers to Sam as well as a large knife. Caught off-guard, Sam did as ordered, keeping an eye on the smaller man as he zipped around, slicing tomatoes, heating chicken, measuring rice and generally looking like he was enjoying himself.

In the space of ten minutes, Gabriel had a pot of spicy jambalaya going, enticing aromas of seasoned chicken, sweet tomatoes and hot jalapenos wafting around the kitchen and making Sam’s mouth water.

“Put the baked Alaska in the fridge and we’ll see if we can salvage the ice cream,” Gabriel ordered and Sam did as he was told, joining Gabriel beside the hob soon after. He watched the older man stir the pot and had to admit the colourful mixture looked delicious. He hadn’t expected Gabriel to be all that good at cooking, but maybe he’d been wrong.

After twenty minutes, Gabriel served their meal and they retreated into the lounge area to eat, seating themselves at the dining table.

One bite later and Sam couldn’t help the groan tumbling from his lips.

“This is the best jambalaya I have ever tasted,” he said before he could stop himself and Gabriel actually perked up and beamed at him in pride.

“I’m glad you like it, kiddo,” he said sincerely. He loved it when people enjoyed his food.

“You have to teach me how to make this,” continued Sam eagerly and Gabriel chuckled as he watched Sam shovel a heap of rice and shrimp into his mouth. 

“I’d be happy to. You already have my number. All you have to do is call and I’ll teach you anything you like.”

Sam paused and blinked at Gabriel. He swallowed and tilted his head. “…You’d really do that? Take time out of your day to teach me how to cook?”

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “…Yeah. Why does that surprise you?”

Sam frowned. “Do you want money for it?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened and he shook his head quickly. “What? No! I’m offering because you seem genuinely interested and you didn’t turn your nose up in disgust when I handed you those peppers earlier.” He frowned. “The only thing I ask is you buy the ingredients. I’m afraid I can’t afford to splash out on anything more than a loaf of bread and a tin of spam at the moment.”

Sam frowned at his bowl for a minute. “You really can’t afford to eat every day?”

Gabriel pushed a shrimp around his bowl. “Not if I want to keep attending culinary school.”

Sam scowled. “…Alright. How about you can eat here every evening so long as you teach me how to cook the meals you make?”

Gabriel gaped at Sam, stunned. “…Seriously?”

Sam stared at him defensively. “What? If you don’t want to teach me, then forget I said anything, alright? Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

“Woah, kid! It’s not that I don’t want to teach you; quite the opposite actually. I just… can’t believe you’re being so nice to me,” confessed Gabriel softly.

Sam deflated. “I can be nice,” he protested weakly. Gabriel snorted.

“You threw milk over me the first time I spoke to you because you thought you were better than me. In fact, you still think you’re better than me, you just haven’t said it to my face in a while.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Gabriel smiled hollowly before continuing his meal.

“Alright, deal. Let me eat here and I’ll teach you how to make every meal. Even baked Alaska,” Gabriel winked and Sam suddenly looked excited at the prospect of the dessert he’d pulled a face at earlier.

“Great. I’ll pick you up from college at five-thirty every evening,” Sam nodded. “Once we’ve eaten, I’ll take you home and you can do whatever you like.”

“Sounds like a plan,” agreed Gabriel, already thinking about what he could cook for them both the following evening.

 

* * *

 

“They’re waiting for us outside,” murmured Meg as she peered through the taxi window, eying the four men dressed in dark shirts and trousers, their hands in their pockets. 

Balthazar grumbled under his breath and Castiel gently squeezed his arm before the car came to a halt and they paid the driver. They slipped outside into the warm evening air, students milling around, chatting and laughing, some already drunk. They made their way over to the four men, who they recognised as Dean, Alastair, Gordon and Bartholomew.

“What wholesome friends he’s got,” muttered Meg sarcastically and Castiel smiled grimly before plastering on a politely interested expression when they were standing directly in front of Dean. Alastair didn’t bother to hide the way his gaze raked over Meg’s body, a smirk tugging at his lips and Meg narrowed her eyes and clutched her purse a little tighter, ready to use it as a weapon if the need arose.

“Awesome, you’re here,” said Dean as if he hadn’t been certain if Castiel would bottle out. “This is Alastair, Gordon and Bartholomew, but we usually call him Bart. If you come inside, I’ll introduce you to Abaddon and Lilith.”

Castiel nodded and followed Dean into the club. 

The club – Lux – was an impressive, shiny building with a spacious dancefloor and luxurious booths to sit at. The bar was long and polished, well-stocked with every type of alcohol anyone could desire. The music was a little more rocky than the average club, but that was a reflection on the club owner; a tall man in an expensive suit who seemed a little too intense to be fully human.

It was a well-respected club though and probably one of the safer ones to visit.

Dean led them towards a tall, curvy red-head wearing killer heels and a smirk, and a blonde woman with a gorgeous face and dangerous eyes.

Dean gestured to them each in turn. “Abaddon, Lilith, this is Castiel, Balthazar and Meg.” He had to raise his voice a little over the music.

Abaddon eyed Castiel contemplatively. “He’s cute. I can see why you like him.” 

“Hey, he’s come out to have a good time with his friends and us. Don’t make him uncomfortable,” chided Dean lightly as Balthazar and Meg shifted a little closer to Castiel, glaring at Dean.

Castiel placed his hands on his friends’ backs. “Would you like a drink?” He asked them and they nodded, relaying their requests to him. He stepped up to the bar, pretending not to notice when Dean followed him.

“I’m glad you could come,” Dean said, leaning against the bar as he watched Castiel. “Wasn’t sure if you’d ditch me.”

Castiel barely spared him a glance. “I keep my promises,” he stated, watching the bartender prepare whatever fruity cocktail Balthazar had asked for.

“Good,” hummed Dean. “I hope you and your friends have a good time tonight.”

Castiel eyed Dean warily and the younger man cocked an amused eyebrow. “Maybe by the end of the night I’ll have convinced you I’m not a bad guy.”

Castiel snorted and collected his drinks. “Good luck,” he commented before leaving in search of his friends.

The trio slowly migrated to a booth, away from Dean and his group. They chatted for a few minutes as they sipped at their drinks and once they were done, Balthazar dragged Castiel and Meg onto the dance floor and forced them to throw away all their dignity and just have fun with him. They laughed at one another and poked fun at each other’s moves and Balthazar twirled them both around the floor at one point.

Half an hour in, Dean rounded them up for shots (which Castiel had been wary of at first, but had been surprised to find he enjoyed the taste of fruit sours) and they returned to dancing, sliding away from Dean’s group once more when Alastair got a little too touchy-feely with Meg.

An hour later, they slumped into the booth for a brief rest, hot and thirsty. Just as Balthazar stood to order some drinks, Dean appeared at the table with three drinks that were mirrors of their first round of the evening. He passed them around with a smile, looking fairly warm himself as he swigged his own JD and coke. 

Castiel sniffed at his drink suspiciously. “How do we know these aren’t spiked?” He demanded.

Dean actually looked shocked by the question. “…Uh… because I’m not into rape?” He sounded quite hurt that Castiel would ask him that.

Carefully, the trio tasted their drinks and upon detecting nothing wrong with them, Castiel nodded at Dean appreciatively. 

“Thank you,” he said and Dean merely smiled.

“Hope you’re enjoying yourself,” he said before shuffling off into the chaos on the dance floor, in search of his friends.

“I don’t trust him,” Balthazar announced, clearing half his drink. “He’s up to something.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Of course he is. But it doesn’t mean we can’t play along. If he starts behaving inappropriately, we leave.”

“Maybe he’s trying to get Cas drunk,” shrugged Meg. “Lower his inhibitions and get him into bed.”

“Even after Cassie puked on him?” Asked Balthazar. Meg shrugged.

“Have you seen the way Winchester looks at him? Oh, he definitely wants him between the sheets.”

Castiel scoffed. “Which isn’t going to happen. Look, guys, I’ll be fine. Whatever game Dean is playing, he’s not going to win. Besides, I have you guys to look out for me,” he teased, making Meg and Balthazar grin.

“C’est vrai,” Balthazar hummed.

“Yeah, we’ll keep an eye on you,” Meg said, leaning into his side.

They ventured onto the dance floor shortly after that and half an hour later, they were once again surprised by Dean joining them and offering them another round of drinks.

“Stay hydrated,” he winked before gliding away to find his friends.

Castiel shook his head in amusement and swigged his drink.

“Hey, are you guys feeling really warm?” He asked ten minutes later. His vision was a little blurry and he could feel the beginnings of a migraine behind his eyes. 

Balthazar and Meg watched in alarm as Castiel staggered to one side and they caught him before he could fall. 

“Cassie? What’s wrong?” Balthazar asked as they dragged him into a booth and pressed a hand to his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” murmured Meg worriedly. “Let me get you a glass of water.” She scuttled off towards the bar.

Castiel groaned and leaned his head against the tall back rest of the booth. Something wasn’t right. He felt very tired all of a sudden.

“Cas? What happened?” Asked Balthazar quietly as he wrapped an arm around the other man, propping him up against his shoulder. Castiel closed his eyes. It hurt to keep them open. He leaned into Balthazar, breathing in his friend’s familiar scent. He was beginning to feel dizzy.

_“Castiel!”_

Balthazar and Castiel startled at Dean’s panicked shout and Balthazar held him tighter to his chest, protective as he glared at Dean.

“Go away,” Balthazar snapped.

Dean ran a hand through his hair as he took in Castiel’s state. “That last vodka and coke. Did he drink it all?”

Balthazar narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?” He hissed fiercely. 

Dean held his hands up as Meg returned with a glass of water which she forced Castiel to sip. She scowled at Dean, silently demanding to know what was going on.

“Gordon dropped something in it when I wasn’t watching,” Dean sighed. “I swear I didn’t know. I was talking to Abaddon at the bar and Gordon must have crept behind me and spiked his drink.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Gordon’s literally only just told me.”

“Amazing friends you have there,” Balthazar spat. “Really great guys!”

Dean frowned. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know why he did it-”

“Oh, I can tell you why he did it!” Balthazar snarled. “He did it because you’ve told them Cas is your latest project! He was trying to help you get him into bed!” Balthazar suddenly grabbed Dean by the collar, hauling him forwards with a growl.

“Stay away from Cas,” he hissed viciously, making Dean’s eyes widen in shock. He’d never seen the French man so furious. “Come near him again and I’ll hurt you, comprendre?” Balthazar whispered, voice dripping with venom.

Not one to be intimidated, Dean shoved at Balthazar, freeing himself from his grip.

“It wasn’t my fault,” he scowled. “I would never do that to anyone.”

Balthazar snorted in disgust and stood, holding Castiel up with a surprising amount of strength. He shouldered past Dean, arm securely around Castiel’s waist as he guided them both outside, Meg glaring at Dean as she followed them.

As they waited outside the club for a taxi to pick them up, a sleepy Castiel turned his head to watch Dean yell at Gordon. Gordon scoffed and Dean shoved at him angrily, the rest of their group watching on in surprise. A few moments later, Dean walked out of the club’s side entrance alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I won't be able to add a new chapter on Wednesday, you can have another one now instead ;) Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel stared at the text for a few minutes, weighing up whether or not he should reply. The text had been sent just after ten a.m. and it was now noon. Castiel had slept in late because of the effects of the drug, but now it was out of his systems and he was clear-headed; his memory of the previous night a little spotty but functional enough to remember Dean shoving at Gordon. He also remembered Balthazar’s snarled threat towards Dean.

The text he was deliberating over came from Dean. 

_Hey, just wanted to check if you were ok?_   
_So sorry about last night_   
_Dean_

Castiel licked his lips before he slowly began to type a reply. Dean deserved an answer, right? It wasn’t really his fault that Gordon had spiked his drink.

_**I’m fine** _   
_**Gordon is an assbutt** _

He hit send before he had a chance to reconsider, then closed his eyes and wished he hadn’t replied. He would only encourage Dean to pursue him and that’s not what he wanted, especially if he was going to be in danger of being drugged.

His phone suddenly dinged and he flicked his gaze down to the screen.

_Assbutt?_   
_Glad to hear that. I told Gordon he was out of line_

Castiel quirked a small smile and tapped out a new message.

_**I know. I saw you** _   
_**Thank you for standing up for me against your friends** _

There was a long pause and Castiel assumed Dean had grown bored and stopped replying, so he set his phone on his nightstand and wandered into the kitchen for some lunch. He cracked open a tin of soup and retreated into the living area to watch some Doctor Sexy (a guilty pleasure of his), grateful that it was Saturday and there were no lectures to attend. He briefly wondered where his housemate was but considering Crowley was a business student with a different circle of friends, it wasn’t uncommon for him to not see the man for days on end. In fact, Castiel wasn’t entirely convinced Crowley even lived there anymore.

After lunch, he washed up and grabbed a textbook to start studying, only to notice his phone had a new message. He unlocked the screen and raised an eyebrow at the new text from Dean.

_Can we meet up? Just to talk? I feel awful about last night and I’d like to apologise personally_   
_I kinda want to make sure for myself that you’re ok_   
_I get if you don’t want to but I promise we’ll be alone. Gordon won’t be anywhere near you_   
_Sorry_

Castiel tilted his head, wondering if he should humour Dean or not. It was clearly going to turn into a pass at getting him into bed, but Dean really did seem apologetic. Meg flirted with him all the time but they were still friends; what was wrong with him meeting up with Dean? Just because the man slept around, it didn’t mean they couldn’t be civil with one another.

He thought about how Dean had treated Balthazar and scowled. He should hate Dean.

Still… last night hadn’t been Dean’s fault and he’d so far been quite polite to Castiel and his friends. He’d even yelled at his own friends for causing trouble. And with this last text it was obvious Dean was at least a little concerned about Castiel’s wellbeing even if he was trying to get into his pants. There was no harm in them meeting up, right?

He shouldn’t go.

…But he was going to.

_**Where would you like to meet?** _

Castiel only had to wait a moment for the response.

_Harvey Park @ 2?_

Castiel checked the top of his screen. 12:34 pm. 

_**See you then** _

When there was no further response, Castiel shoved his phone into his pocket and decided he would be able to study for an hour before he had to set off. He wondered if he'd made a good decision to meet with Dean or whether it would backfire once more.

 

* * *

 

“Thanks for meeting me,” said Dean as he joined Castiel on the park bench, watching the students sprawl over the grass, reading or texting. A few even had dogs they were playing with.

Castiel watched a Labrador pick up someone’s pencil case and walk off with it, a girl laughing and running after the animal to retrieve her stolen belonging.

“I thought I’d better put your mind at ease about my wellbeing,” Castiel hummed.

Dean chuckled and leaned back against the bench. “Well, you certainly look better than you did last night, so that’s good.”

“I feel better,” agreed Castiel, watching the male owner of the Labrador tackle it to the ground so he could prise the pencil case from its jaws. 

“I just want to apologise for what happened. I swear I didn’t know Gordon was going to do that,” murmured Dean. “I promise I’m not into drugging people against their will.”

“Apparently your friends are,” hummed Castiel, finally turning his attention to Dean and making the other man straighten slightly. “I have to question your choice of friends.”

Dean frowned, but he wouldn’t quite meet Castiel’s gaze. “They’re not usually like that. I don’t know what happened.”

“We both know that’s a lie, Dean,” said Castiel sternly. “Gordon has already been in trouble with the university for violence. Alastair was once suspended for blackmailing another student for money.”

“…They’ve changed-”

“One of them drugged me last night.”

Dean snapped his mouth shut and looked away.

Castiel sighed. “I don’t understand why you’d want to be associated with those sorts of people. You obviously have some morals, so why spend your time with people like that?”

Dean suddenly smirked, cocky façade sliding back into place as he stretched out on the bench and eyed Castiel smugly.

“’Cause I’m a dirty whore who likes to sleep around. Most people don’t get it, but they do.”

Castiel stared at Dean, unimpressed. “Do you really think so highly of yourself?” He asked sarcastically and Dean shrugged.

“I like sex. I’m not ashamed of who I am.” He raked his gaze over Castiel’s body. “What about you? What’s your love-life like?”

“Nonexistent,” Castiel said bluntly. “Are you really going to keep partaking in this pointless exercise?”

“What exercise is that?” Hummed Dean, sliding a little closer to Castiel.

“This,” Castiel said, gesturing between them. “Was my vomit not enough to put you off? Were Balthazar’s threats not enough to turn you away? I’m not going to sleep with you, Dean.”

“If I had a nickel for every straight, white dude who’s told me that…” Grinned Dean.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know you. I know you’re an asshole judging by how you treated Balthazar. I know you mix with terrible people. I know you’re annoyingly persistent when it comes to getting what you want and I know you don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, even when it’s been stated on multiple occasions. I’ve got to be honest, Dean, you don’t seem to have any redeeming qualities.”

Dean’s smugness had faded, but he still allowed humour to inflect his tone. “What about my outstanding good looks? My impish charm?” He teased.

Castiel snorted and crossed his arms. “You charm is fictitious and your looks are… passable, at best.”

This time, Dean’s smirk fell completely and he leaned away from Castiel with a hard scowl.

“…Did you just call me ugly?”

Castiel shrugged nonchalantly. “I find arrogance unattractive and cockiness even more so. Your eyes are beguiling but your gaze is twisted and full of underlying intentions. Your lips are inviting but your sneer is repulsive and disconcerting. Your body is strong but your muscles are tense with hidden motive. Outwardly, you’re gorgeous. But that’s as far as your beauty extends. It’s superficial, like the rest of you.”

He turned away to focus on the Labrador now trying to eat someone’s burrito, ignoring Dean’s stormy glaring at the side of his head.

“That’s a lot of gay description for a straight guy,” huffed Dean, anger leaking through his tone.

“Gender and sexuality have nothing to do with it,” commented Castiel airily. “I’m merely making a detailed observation.” He smiled wryly. “I am an English major after all.”

Dean scowled. “Thought you studied math?”

Castiel chuckled softly. “You know nothing about me, Dean, just as I know nothing about you. Remind me again why you want to sleep with me? Prove to me you’re as superficial as I know you are.”

Dean stiffened, clenching his jaw as he tilted his chin up defiantly. “Screw you,” he snapped.

“At least you’ve finally stated your intentions aloud now,” hummed Castiel condescendingly and Dean bristled further.

“No wonder you’re a virgin,” he hissed. “Do you treat everyone as though you’re better than them? Do you talk down to all your friends? Maybe you don’t have a girlfriend because you’re a condescending dick!” He scoffed loudly. “I mean seriously? Who’d want to sleep with an asshat like you?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, an amused smile slowly crawling across his face. 

“Apparently, an asshat like you.”

Dean tensed and balled up his fists and Castiel half expected to be punched, but then Dean turned away with a soft growl.

Shrugging, Castiel returned his attention to the park, people-watching for a few minutes before Dean finally spoke again.

“I like hard rock, classic cars and every flavour pie you can think of.”

Castiel blinked in confusion and glanced at the tense Dean. The other man glared at him challengingly, daring him to insult him, but Castiel was too puzzled to say anything.

“You think I’m superficial? Fine. Tell me something about yourself,” huffed Dean.

Castiel tilted his head to one side as Dean crossed his arms impatiently. 

“…Why are you pursuing this?”

“Answer the damn question,” snapped Dean.

Castiel straightened and gazed at his lap for a moment. 

“I like most music, I know nothing about classic cars and I also enjoy pie, but I prefer burgers.”

Dean seemed to… wilt. He leaned back against the bench, keeping his arms crossed.

“I love burgers. I like being outdoors. I hate mornings. I’m allergic to cats,” he offered quietly.

“I love being outdoors. I despise mornings. I’m allergic to peanuts,” Castiel said, a small smile curving his lips.

Dean huffed out a soft laugh at the last one. He paused for a moment, thinking what to say next, before continuing.

“I’ve ridden a horse once and fell off it, so I’ll never ride again. I love kids, as strange as it sounds. I’ve already got a degree in Engineering.” 

Castiel blinked and was about to ask a question, but decided against it. That wasn’t the game.

“The only horse I’ve ever ridden was sedated. I love bees, which isn’t all that strange considering my biological father apparently owned a few hives for his hobby in honey-making. I’ve got degrees in Literature and Language, as well as Foreign Languages.”

Dean regarded Castiel curiously.

“The only reason I’m studying Nutrition and Exercise Science is because I often work with the cheerleaders and jocks. I like the attention and the way people throw themselves at me.”

Castiel blinked. 

“…The only reason I’m studying Mathematics is because my step-father forced me to. I hate the course. I wanted to be a journalist but my step-father didn’t like that idea.”

Castiel could see the way Dean was itching to ask a question, but the other man bit his tongue and dropped his gaze.

“I own a ’67 Chevy Impala that originally belonged to my dad. He gave it to me when I was sixteen and it’s pretty much the only thing in my life besides my brother that means anything to me.”

Castiel knew there was something more to that story, but he couldn’t ask. Instead, he quirked his lips upwards.

“I own a mustard-coloured ’64 Lincoln Continental.”

Dean’s head snapped up and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

“Oh, man… That’s gross. Were you held at gunpoint?”

Castiel laughed. “I have been told countless times that my car is awful and I have yet to see the problem with it. It’s reliable and comfortable and whilst it isn’t the most efficient for fuel consumption, it gets me where I need to go.”

“Mustard-coloured? Seriously?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “It has four wheels and an engine. It works.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a good engine. Bet that thing only has one functioning piston.”

“It’s never let me down yet.”

“There’s still time.”

“Stop insulting my car,” chuckled Castiel. “Your turn.”

Dean grinned and began to relax as they continued their game. Eventually, they diverged off on a tangent with a conversation about Castiel’s previous college, which soon progressed to Dean’s surprising love of classic literature, and then sailed off into the depths of rock music vs. every other kind of music ever written. 

By the time either of them checked their watches, it was past eight p.m. and the park was empty, the silence only pierced by the buzz of the streetlamps illuminating the ground.

Both men looked around before glancing to each other, equally dumbfounded. 

“Huh,” murmured Dean before smiling at Castiel; the first sincere expression Castiel had seen on him since they’d met. “…Can I take you out to dinner? As friends?” He hastened to add and Castiel bit back a chuckle before nodding.

“Alright.”

Dean visibly perked up. “You said you like burgers?”

Castiel bit back a smile. He couldn’t believe Dean had remembered. 

“Come on, I’ll take you to a place I know.” Dean smirked. “You’ll even get to ride in a gorgeous car.”

“I don’t remember offering you the keys,” commented Castiel innocently and Dean snorted. 

“I said gorgeous not gruesome.”

“You’ve never even met her.”

“Lucky me.”

 

* * *

 

“…Pizza?” Sam wrinkled his nose in distaste and Gabriel dropped a bag of peppers in his arms.

“Homemade calzone. Trust me, kid, you’ll love it,” Gabriel corrected. He glided away to prepare the dough. “Start washing and chopping those peppers.”

Sam looked ready to protest but apparently thought better of it as he located a knife and rinsed the peppers under the tap.

They moved around each other easily as Gabriel led Sam through a step-by-step guide of how to make the perfect calzone. Gabriel felt like he belonged in that kitchen and if Sam’s amused glances were anything to go by, he knew what Gabriel was thinking.

Gabriel was a quick yet proficient teacher and Sam’s focus was surprising. He hadn’t expected the younger man to be all that interested in learning how to cook, but Sam had proved him wrong when instead of sitting back and smirking about having a meal prepared for him by someone else, the younger man was engaged and curious about their food. He asked questions and didn’t throw a tantrum when he made a mistake (unlike some people Gabriel had taught) and he accepted Gabriel’s help graciously when it was required. 

This was not the snotty, arrogant dick Gabriel was accustomed to.

He didn’t even mind Gabriel calling him ‘kid’, which Gabriel was baffled by because he’d only said it to wind Sam up, but the younger man didn’t seem at all bothered by it.

Once cooked, they split the calzone in half and sat at the dining table. 

“You were right,” agreed Sam after his first bite. “It’s definitely better than Domino’s.”

Gabriel chuckled and tucked in. He hadn’t eaten all day and he was hungry.

Sam watched him tear into his meal like a starving dog. “How come your parents don’t help you out with the cash situation?”

Gabriel froze and flicked his gaze up to Sam. He wiped his mouth with the napkin Sam had subtly supplied him with earlier.

“Umm… Because I haven’t talked to them since I was sixteen?” Gabriel shrugged. If anyone asked, he would readily tell them about his awful family; he had nothing to hide. He had worked hard to get where he was.

Sam frowned and Gabriel leaned back in his chair. Everything was so comfortable in this suite.

“I’m the black sheep of the family. I want to be a chef but my family are all politicians and lawyers. My older brothers made fun of me, my parents didn’t approve of me and when I got caught kissing Joshua Edlund around the back of the tennis courts when I was sixteen, mother and father dearest kicked me out of the house and told me they didn’t want me corrupting my brothers.” Gabriel glanced up at Sam. “So that’s why I have no financial support from them.”

Sam gaped at him. “Your parents disowned you for… kissing another boy?”

“Yep,” replied Gabriel casually, continuing his dinner. “What about you, champ? You got any family gossip?”

Sam stared. “You were sixteen? Where did you go? Did you live with a friend? Did you go to an orphanage? How did you make it this far?”

Gabriel lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I lived on the streets for a few months, begging, until I stumbled across a hostel. They took me in and I got a job as a dishwasher. At eighteen, they threw me out and I had enough cash to buy a busted-up trailer and by that point I had become a waiter. I switched to a better restaurant, worked there for four years before I got a promotion to chef and I saved my money until I could sell the trailer and come to university in hopes of opening myself up to better career opportunities.” He smiled and shoved a forkful of saucy dough into his mouth.

Sam gazed at Gabriel in a strange way that had the older man tilting his head.

“What?”

Sam quickly shook his head and frowned at his plate. “You’ve been through a lot to get here. You worked hard.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I suppose. So, what?”

“You’re so humble. Most would be bitter, but you just… keep moving forward,” murmured Sam.

Gabriel wasn’t sure where Sam was going with this. “No point in being bitter. Doesn’t solve anything. Won’t help me to fulfil my dreams.”

“…How do you carry on when everything seems to be working against you, though?” Frowned Sam. “You’ve got no money, your professor actively hates you, you have a rodent infestation, you don’t eat every day… how do you keep going through all of that?”

Gabriel chewed a chunk of cheese and peppers thoughtfully.

“I guess I keep telling myself that things will get better. I’ve come this far, I can’t quit now. If I work hard enough, I’ll get where I want to be.”

Sam stared at him in an odd way, seemingly just dissecting his words and taking him in. Gabriel began to wonder if he had something on his face.

“That’s… kind of inspiring,” Sam admitted gently and Gabriel nearly choked on a piece of chicken.

Sam quickly dropped his gaze when Gabriel turned to him, pretending he was immersed in his dinner. Gabriel watched him for a moment before slowly returning to his own meal.

 

* * *

 

They washed the dishes together and once they were done, Gabriel grabbed his jacket and waited patiently by the door, glancing around the luxurious suite and sighing at the idea of returning home to his sleeping bag on a cold, hard, wooden floor.

Sam popped his head out of the kitchen. “…You know… you can stay a little longer if you like. We could watch TV or read or, well, anything you want.” He scrunched his brow. “Unless you need to get home…?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rocketed skywards. He slowly tugged his jacket off. “…I wouldn’t mind watching a movie.”

Sam smiled warmly and Gabriel’s couldn't help but return the expression. 

“Awesome. I’ll go grab some blankets.” Sam scuttled off upstairs and Gabriel blinked, an amused huff of laughter escaping his lips. Blankets? How old were they?

Sure enough though, Sam returned with two fluffy blankets with two different landscapes printed over them; one of snowy mountains and the other of a luscious forest.

They sat on the couch ( _seriously, why was everything so comfortable in this place?_ ) and Sam threw the blankets over them and flipped the TV on like a kid at a sleepover. Gabriel regarded him subtly, a smile quirking his lips as Sam navigated to the movie list. Then he dropped the remote in Gabriel’s lap.

“Choose what you like.”

Gabriel scrolled through the listings, mind only half on the task as he watched Sam wriggle further under his blanket, fluffing the cushion behind him and somehow inching a little closer to Gabriel in the process.

“What?” Sam asked with an adorably confused frown and Gabriel realised he’d stopped scrolling, too busy watching the younger man. 

He shook his head. “Nothing,” he replied, selecting Guardians of the Galaxy. Sam suddenly grinned.

“I love this movie.” He turned his smile to Gabriel and Gabriel stared at the younger man, his chest... did something.

“Alexa, reduce the lights to twenty percent,” Sam said as the title screen rolled and Gabriel laughed as the room dimmed to a soft orange glow. 

“Okay, that’s pretty cool,” he whispered and Sam grinned at him before turning his attention to the screen. Gabriel kept his gaze on the younger man for a moment longer, admiring his handsome features when they weren’t twisted into a sneer, before he, too, focused on the large screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry... Gabriel won't be too easily taken in by Sam, but that doesn't mean he can't find him physically attractive ;) Cas, on the other hand, is going to be far harder to win over!


	6. Chapter 6

Gabriel awoke warm and comfortable, with no pains from lying on a hard floor for too long. The air didn’t smell damp either, which was a first and there were no draughts hitting his skin and making his bones ache.

He stretched lazily and his eyes fluttered open as he smiled at the first good night’s sleep he’d had since arriving at the college last year.

He stared at the huge TV facing him and trailed his gaze to thick red carpets before glancing down at the fluffy blanket strewn over him.

This was not his apartment.

He sprung upright, looking around in confusion for a moment. Sunlight peeked through the blinds, creating patterns on the floor and he remembered he’d cooked dinner for Sam and himself the previous evening. He couldn’t remember going home, which meant he must have fallen asleep in Sam’s suite.

He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the clock on the far side of the room, stiffening when he realised it read nine-thirty-five. He’d stayed far too long and Sam probably wouldn’t appreciate him still being here this morning. Maybe he could sneak out before the younger man came downstairs. How far was his apartment from Sam’s place?

Grimacing at the idea of a four hour walk home, Gabriel carefully folded his blanket up and crept towards the door, stifling a yawn. There was movement in the kitchen and he grimaced, reaching for his jacket and pulling it on. He made to open the door but paused when he felt as though he was being watched.

He whirled around to face a curious Dean Winchester holding a plate of pancakes drenched in chocolate sauce and strawberries. They smelled heavenly.

“Did you not want breakfast?” Dean asked, gesturing to the pancakes. “Sam said you were staying for breakfast. Thought I’d save you the horrors of my little brother’s burnt toast and I kicked him out of the kitchen to whip us all up some pancakes.” Dean grinned and Gabriel opened and closed his mouth a few times before his stomach growled its approval.

“Uh… sure. Okay…” Said Gabriel slowly as Dean thrust the pancakes towards him. He took them and made his way over to the dining table as Dean stood at the bottom of the stairs.

“Samantha! Get your ass out of the bathroom! You can braid your hair later!”

Gabriel felt a smile tugging at his lips as Sam yelled “Jerk!” and began stomping down the stairs.

“Bitch,” snorted Dean before retreating into the kitchen and grabbing the remaining two plates of pancakes. 

Sam glanced over at Gabriel and quickly straightened when he recognised him.

“You stayed,” he said, sounding almost… pleased. Then, he tilted his head. “You don’t have to eat those at the table, by the way. We usually just sit on the couch and watch TV at breakfast.”

Gabriel glanced down at his breakfast and flicked his gaze back up to Sam. 

“Yeah man, you don’t have to go all formal on us now. Crash on the couch with us,” said Dean, offering a plate to Sam before making his way to the couch.

Sam smiled warmly at him before joining his brother and Gabriel watched them for a moment before following. He felt like he was dreaming. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting from the infamous Dean Winchester and his arrogant brother. Why were they being so nice to him?

He settled beside Sam and watched the pair bicker over what to watch in between mouthfuls of pancake (syrup-drizzled for Dean, fruit-topped for Sam). He wondered what the sense of longing in his chest meant, before musing to himself if this was how brothers usually interacted. 

All he remembered of Michael and Lucifer was loud arguments and a lot of punches. He also remembered being beaten up a few times because his brothers had found out about his sexuality a long time before his parents had and so they liked to blackmail him into doing things he didn’t want to do. He vaguely wondered if his brothers had ever loved him.

He smiled as Dean stole a blueberry from Sam’s plate, popping it into his mouth as Sam elbowed him. They were like children.

He wished he had that relationship with his brothers.

“Hey, what do you want to watch, Gabriel?” Asked Dean, snapping the older man out of his thoughts. 

Gabriel glanced at the screen. “…Doctor Sexy?”

Sam groaned and Dean fist-pumped the air gleefully. 

“You can come again,” Dean announced as Sam rolled his eyes.

“He already is,” mumbled Sam as Dean pressed ‘Play’.

Gabriel felt a smile tugging at his lips as he settled into the couch and dug into his breakfast.

 

* * *

 

“Already letting him sleep over? Sammy, you sly dog,” chuckled Dean as he heard his brother enter the suite after taking Gabriel home.

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that. We were watching TV and he fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake him.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Doesn’t sound like you. Usually you’re all for kicking people out when they’ve outstayed their welcome.”

Sam pulled a face. “I can’t just kick him out when he comes around every day to make me a meal.”

Dean shrugged. “If you say so. Congrats on winning him over so quickly. It’ll make things easier for when you lose this bet and you have to date him for another four years.” Dean smirked and winked at his brother.

Sam scowled. “Shut up. I wouldn’t say I’ve won him over. And besides, has Castiel even looked your way yet? I haven’t seen you bringing him back here.”

“Early days, Sammy. Early days,” said Dean, waggling a finger. “He spent all day with me yesterday and tomorrow, I’m gonna take him on another date.”

“He agreed to another date?” Asked Sam, surprised. “How did you get past the straight thing?”

Dean’s expression turned a little sheepish. “Well… I mean… we don’t call them dates. But, yesterday I took him to a burger joint- ”

Sam snorted and made his way to the stairs. “So, he hasn’t looked your way. He thinks you want to be his friend.”

Dean frowned. “No. He definitely knows I want more than that, but he uh…”

“Rejected you?” Smirked Sam. “Told you where to shove it? Laughed at your obvious desperation?”

“We talked,” defended Dean. “Got to know each other a little.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like you. Since when do you ‘get to know’ your conquests?”

Dean crossed his arms. “Hey, I ask about my lovers’ lives.”

“Sounds like you had a pretty deep conversation with Castiel,” Sam commented. “Did you talk about yourself?”

Dean shrugged defensively. “A little.”

“How much did you tell him?”

Dean threw his hands up in irritation. “What is this? Twenty questions? Go put your extensions in.”

Sam shot him a bitchface before climbing the stairs, leaving Dean to shuffle around the suite moodily. He grabbed his phone and scrolled through Facebook idly as he slumped on the couch, but soon grew bored. He opened up his message app and clicked on Castiel’s name, glancing through their last texts. Before he had a chance to think it through, he’d already typed out a new message and sent it to the other man.

_**Hey want to grab lunch with me?** _

He smiled when his phone buzzed with a response within seconds, but deflated when he read the message.

_Can’t – helping Meg study_   
_Sorry_

Dean sighed and locked his phone. He wasn’t sure why he’d asked Castiel in the first place, nor why he felt disappointed at the response. He hoped he hadn’t come off as desperate by sending Castiel that text because the last thing he needed was the other man thinking he was needy or clingy. That was one way to lose a potential bed partner.

He shoved his phone into his pocket and stood. He’d leave Castiel alone for the rest of the day; let him spend the day thinking about their time together yesterday, then he'd talk to him tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Monday rolled around quicker than anyone would have liked. However, Dean had a plan. 

He lingered outside the Mathematics department, waiting for Castiel to emerge and when he spotted him, he sauntered over to the other man, default smirk in place.

“I remember you said you liked brownies. Thought I’d get you a treat for suffering through a class you hate,” he drawled, holding out a box of brownies for Castiel to take. “Peanut free,” he added at Castiel’s raised eyebrow.

The other man took the box gingerly, glancing at it for a moment before shooting Dean an amused look.

“Thank you,” he said. “Although I must warn you that attempts to buy my affection are futile. I can’t be bought.”

Dean’s expression faltered. Usually people were all over him when he bought them gifts, especially when they came off as a surprise. Castiel didn’t look as though he was about to throw himself at Dean any time soon.

Dean shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll bear that in mind. Now, where can I take you for lunch?”

Castiel shook his head in exasperation. “This is a hard concept for you, isn’t it?”

Dean frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You keep paying for me in hopes it’ll catch my attention. I’m not interested in you spending money on me. I don’t look for wealth in a partner,” explained Castiel and Dean scowled.

“…So, what are you saying?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I’m saying stop flaunting your wealth to attract my attention. Not only is it pointless, but buying people’s affection will encourage them to use you. Do you really want a partner who only stays with you for your money? Do you really want someone who would toss you aside if you ever lost your financial status? Don’t degrade yourself like that.”

Dean stared at Castiel for a moment. He’d never been told to stop spending money on someone. Usually people encouraged him to pay for everything. He dropped his gaze for a moment, contemplative before glancing up again.

“Alright,” he mumbled. “Don’t throw money at you. Got it.”

Castiel smiled, pleased. “Good. Then I’m happy to accompany you to lunch, so long as we split the bill.”

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise as Castiel sent off a brief text to Meg that he wouldn’t be meeting the group for lunch.

He wondered why Castiel had decided to join him for lunch instead of his friends, but decided not to question it in case he changed his mind. He managed to convince himself it was because his charm was slowly growing on Castiel.

“So, where would you like to go?” He asked instead and Castiel tilted his head for a moment before nodding East.

“Do you like Mexican?”

“Obviously.”

Castiel chuckled and began the journey to the quaint little Mexican café he knew of.

Already off-kilter from Castiel rejecting his plan to buy him lunch, Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to scrape up some of that smooth confidence he was famous for.

“So… how was class?” He asked when he drew a blank, scolding himself for being lame. That was not how you got people into bed. So much for that Winchester charm.

“Informative but incredibly dull,” replied Castiel with a small smile. “Yours?”

“We tried yoga for the first time ever. I stretched parts of me I didn’t even know I had.”

Castiel’s lips twitched in amusement. “Did you find your centre?” He teased.

Dean grinned. “I definitely found something when the hot instructor entered the room. Man, she was bendy. Bet she’d take you on a wild adventure between the sheets.” He chuckled to himself but sobered when he realised Castiel wasn’t joining in. In fact, the man looked pretty disinterested with the conversation.

“Sounds like you learned a lot,” muttered Castiel drily.

Dean frowned and tried to work out what he’d said wrong.

“…Actually, I did,” he replied slowly, deciding that maybe talking about women and sex wasn’t Castiel’s thing. Weird; every guy he’d been with before liked talking about sex and didn’t straight men love measuring how hot a woman was? “Yoga’s all about balance and mindfulness. It’s a great way of slowing your breathing and reducing stress. I’d never tried it before because I thought it was a load of crap, but actually, it can be quite useful.”

Castiel suddenly perked up again, a smile pulling at his lips and Dean mentally noted the reaction to decipher later.

“You enjoyed it then? It’s something you would try again?” Castiel asked and Dean nodded, musing over Castiel’s change in mood.

“Do you play any sport?” Dean asked curiously. “Or have any exercise routines?”

Castiel’s cheeks heated and Dean blinked at the reaction. It was kind of cute. 

“I don’t play any real sports, but I do like ice skating. And roller skating. I’ve even had a dabble at ice hockey,” he admitted. “Although I’m not very good.”

Dean arched an eyebrow. “Skating, huh? We’ll have to go one day.”

Castiel glanced at him. “Do you skate?”

Dean shook his head. “No. But I’m sure you’re a great teacher.”

Castiel huffed out a laugh and focused on the street again. “I wouldn’t count on it. I taught a group of elementary kids basic Spanish in Florida and their teacher had to take me to one side and explain why teaching them the translation for _pulchritudinous_ was too advanced for them.”

“Dude, I don’t even know what that means!” Laughed Dean.

“It’s used to describe a person’s beauty,” hummed Castiel. “It’s an adjective.”

Dean mulled this over for a moment. “So, if I was to say you look pulchritudinous today…?”

Castiel’s lips quirked upwards. “I would say thank you and query whether I appeared rebarbative to you on previous days.”

“Rebarbative?”

“Objectionable or unattractive.”

Dean grinned. “Why say ‘ugly’ when you can say ‘rebarbative’?” He teased and Castiel’s smirk grew.

“Precisely.”

“You’re as bad as my brother. Every time I have a conversation with him, I feel like he’s speaking another language,” commented Dean, watching the way Castiel’s gaze sparkled with humour. Had the man’s eyes always been such an intense blue?

“Maybe I am,” hummed Castiel. “I have majored in Foreign Languages after all. Maybe these are all Italian words.”

“How many languages do you know?”

“A few,” shrugged Castiel. “Enough to get me around in every continent anyway. I’ve taught myself a couple of languages so I’m not perfect, but I’ll be understandable should I ever have to use them.”

“Teach me something,” Dean said. “Something useful. Any language.”

Castiel thought for a moment before nodding.

“Je suis une bite,” he sounded slowly.

“…Je suis une… bite?” Asked Dean, the words sounding strange on his tongue and not at all like the smooth fluency that Castiel managed.

Castiel nodded. “Très bien.”

Dean smiled proudly. He knew that one.

“So… what does it mean?”

Castiel smirked faintly. “Oh, it’s something you in particular will use quite a lot.”

Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What does it mean?” He asked with a hint of amusement.

Castiel chuckled. “It means _‘I’m a dick’_.”

Dean sagged exaggeratedly. “I’m thrilled you think so highly of me.”

They chatted for a little while longer before they reached the café. It was a small place but the interior was decorated with candles and rich colours. The walls were littered with traditional Mexican instruments and all the tables were wooden and draped with cheerful tablecloths, a single rose in a small vase adorning each one’s centre. 

Dean had never been to the tiny café before but he immediately decided he liked it despite it not being one of the five-star, high-class restaurants he usually frequented.

They sat and ordered drinks, Castiel speaking in Spanish to the Mexican waitress just to make her smile. Dean felt his own lips quirk upwards as the young woman practically bounced away, chittering to a Mexican waiter excitedly in their native tongue.

“I think she likes you,” chuckled Dean and Castiel merely glanced up at him amusedly in response before dropping his gaze to his menu.

Dean took one glance at the menu before he honed in on one section in particular.

“How am I supposed to choose from all these different flavours of tacos?”

Castiel was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat. “…We could order the sharing platter? That way you could test a large portion of them.”

“Don’t you want something different?”

Castiel closed his menu. “I was going to order tacos anyway,” he admitted. “I just didn’t want to bring the platter up in case you didn’t want them.”

Dean brightened. He and Castiel seemed to like a lot of the same things. “Oh, awesome.”

They ordered and Castiel unfolded his napkin and placed it on his lap.

“So, Dean, you mentioned you like classic rock. Do you play?”

“I dabble with guitar, I guess. But I’m nothing special.”

“Self-taught?”

“Yeah. We aren’t exactly a musical family. You?”

“Piano,” replied Castiel. “Not by choice, mind you, but I grew to enjoy it throughout the years.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Step-father?”

“Mother, actually,” chuckled Castiel. “She had this notion that all smart kids played a classical instrument, which meant once I turned seven, I was enrolled into private music tuition in hopes I would magically turn into a genius. Hated it for the first three years, began to appreciate it when I could impress my school friends with popular music.”

Dean grinned. “Did you keep it up?”

“I have my days,” hummed Castiel.

“You’ll have to impress me with Bohemian Rhapsody one day,” winked Dean. “Guitar solo and all.”

“As long as you play something for me too,” said Castiel, making Dean snort.

“I can play about four chords and that’s it.”

“Then you can already play fifty percent of today’s charts.”

Dean snickered as their drinks were set on the table. Castiel smiled warmly at the waitress and she giggled again before scurrying away. They sipped at their drinks before beginning a new conversation, learning a little more about one another until they had finished their meal and it was time to return to lectures.

“It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Dean,” Castiel confessed softly and Dean perked up and beamed at the other man.

“Glad I could entertain you,” he teased and Castiel quirked a small smile before paying for his half of the meal and standing up.

“I have to go. My lecture begins in ten minutes.”

Dean nodded in understanding and waved his hand carelessly, watching the older man leave. He felt oddly… satisfied. Happy, even.

Shaking his head at himself, he paid the rest of the bill and left the café, whistling a Taylor Swift song he’d never admit to liking.

 

* * *

 

They had settled into somewhat of a routine. Sam would pick Gabriel up from the college at five-thirty, Gabriel would make them dinner and then they’d watch a movie on the couch before Sam took Gabriel home (or near it because Gabriel didn’t want Sam seeing his apartment). 

The blankets were out and they each had a mug of hot chocolate clasped between their hands. _American Pie_ was rolling and Gabriel could feel sleep tugging at the corners of his mind because the blanket was warm, the cushions were soft and the couch was squishy and comfortable. 

“Gabriel?” Sam asked suddenly.

“Hm?” 

“How come I never see you with any friends?”

Gabriel hesitated before glancing up at the taller man. “I don’t really have time for friends, Sam. When I’m not in class, I’m working at the café. When I’m not there, I’m here.”

Sam frowned. “The café?”

“I have to make money somehow,” Gabriel shrugged. “My student loan only just covers the rent for my apartment and some of my equipment and ingredients for class. Everything else I have to pay for myself and that means working morning shifts at a café off campus. I used to work afternoons, but I requested a change since I knew I’d be coming here in the evenings. I don’t do many hours, but I can scrape by.”

Sam sagged a little. “So you work, go to lectures, then come here every day?”

Gabriel nodded and settled back into the couch with a small yawn. “Pretty much.”

“And because of all that, you don’t have time for friends?”

“Well… There’s this kid I work with called Jo. Your age I think. She’s pretty cool,” hummed Gabriel. “Her mother owns the place. Nice people.”

Sam stared at him for a few moments before slowly returning his attention to the TV.

“Oh,” he murmured quietly and Gabriel glanced at him briefly before flicking his gaze back to the TV.

“What about you, kiddo? You have plenty of friends. How come I rarely see you hanging out with them?”

Sam dropped his gaze to his lap.

“We don’t really have anything in common,” he admitted. “We all love our course and we’re pretty competitive, but that’s probably as far as our similarities go. I mean… I talk to people outside the medical school and I’ve been out with them a few times, but… I don’t know, it’s fun but it always feels like… I’m with them but I’m not really there, y’know? I buy their drinks and their food and I take them to the movies and the fair and all these other places, but it’s like… once I’ve done that, they talk and laugh amongst themselves and suddenly, I might as well not exist. I don’t understand half the things they talk about and when I try talking about other things, they act politely interested and change the topic. Sometimes, I just feel…”

“Used,” Gabriel finished softly. “As though you’re only there to pay for them and serve as a bank for whenever they need you.”

Sam flinched a little before nodding. “…Yeah,” he murmured. 

Gabriel managed a small smile. Despite Sam’s arrogance, it was clear in that moment how young and naïve he was. Gabriel felt a little sorry for him. 

“Unfortunately, that’s the price you have to pay when you have money. People will always try to use you. You’ve got to sort out your real friends from the freeloaders.” He raised an eyebrow. “And you’ve got to stop flaunting your wealth to impress people. You’re impressing the wrong people. Just be a decent human being and stop trying to buy people’s love; you’ll soon find out who your real friends are.”

Sam gazed at Gabriel in surprise for a minute before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

They focused on the TV once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not doing very well sticking to this update schedule of Saturdays and Wednesdays. Whoops.


	7. Chapter 7

Hands roamed over hot skin, breathy moans falling between them as they writhed against one another. Dean nipped at his partner’s breast and she arched against him, her hand anchoring in his hair as she groaned. He thrust into her, slow and firm, watching her free hand clutch the sheets as she orgasmed.

He spilled into the condom soon after and pulled out of her, watching her sigh happily on the bed as he discarded the condom and grabbed a towel to clean them both up.

“That was in the top three of best sex I’ve ever had,” she purred as he perched beside her on the bed, offering her the towel. 

He chuckled and kissed her head. “And you are in the top three of bendiest women I’ve ever seen,” he winked, making her blush.

“I am a yoga instructor,” she murmured, tracing a finger over his thigh. She shot him a coy glance. “You up for round three?”

He smiled and kissed her lips hotly before pulling away when she tried to drag him on top of her. 

“I have class,” he said. “I’m afraid we’ll have to put a raincheck on it.”

She pouted. “How about tonight?” She asked hopefully and he shook his head apologetically. 

“I’m meeting with someone tonight.”

She propped herself up on one elbow. “Not another woman?” She frowned and he shook his head again.

“No. A guy.”

Her gaze sparkled with interest. “Would he be interested in joining us for some fun?”

“Not that kind of meeting,” Dean smirked, carding his fingers through brunette locks.

She pouted again before sitting upright and swinging her legs off the bed. 

“Well, I’d better let you get to class then. Call me later?”

Dean smiled warmly and nodded. “I’ll see you later Ms. Braeden,” he winked and she smirked before tugging him in for another filthy kiss. When they parted, Dean left the room to allow her to pull her clothes on, a bath robe slung over his shoulder and his underwear in place.

He padded downstairs and a few minutes later, his teacher followed him, giving him and Sam a shy wave as she left.

When the door closed, Sam glanced over at his brother.

“Have fun?”

Dean shrugged and flipped on the TV. “She was pretty good. Not the best, but kept me entertained for a couple of hours.”

Sam nodded and returned to his book. “How’d you get her to leave?”

“Told her I have class soon.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

Sam nodded again and fell quiet for a few minutes.

“Got anywhere with Castiel yet?”

Dean scowled at the TV. A week had passed since he and Sam had made their bet and he felt as though he was no closer to bedding Castiel than he had been a week ago. They’d talked and gone out for lunch and dinner a few times. They’d even visited the park together a couple of times, just to chat, but Castiel brushed all his advances off with a well-placed witty remark or a dry observation and Dean was rendered speechless or ducking his head in embarrassment. The man didn’t have one iota of interest in him and Dean couldn’t understand it. All the straight men he’d seduced had been at least a little curious after the first week, but Castiel was nothing like them. He didn’t posture or try to prove his masculinity. He hadn’t even looked at Dean in disgust when he’d first flirted with the older man.

He’d been amused. Castiel found his flirting entertaining and Dean wasn’t sure how to take that. Castiel wasn’t impressed by his charming grin or his smooth compliments. He wasn’t impressed by his sexual reputation or even his money. Dean had never faced a challenge like Castiel before.

He needed to bring out the big guns.

He needed to get Castiel loose and relaxed. Sweet-talk him a little and tease him until he was horny enough that Dean looked like a good option. He needed to figure out what got Castiel riled up; find out what kind of women he liked and what he liked to do with them.

He smirked. He knew a place.

Sam chuckled and turned the page. “Told you he’d be tricky.”

“Well, Friday’s going to be his lucky night,” Dean said, shooting his brother a smug look. “Hope you enjoy dating Gabriel for the next four years.”

Sam snorted and continued his novel. “Whatever you say.” 

 

* * *

 

Friday rolled around and when the clock struck six p.m., Dean texted Castiel.

_**Doing anything tonight?** _

The reply took ten minutes to filter through.

_I have a feeling I will be soon enough_

Dean chuckled and perched on the edge of his bed. He rather liked Castiel’s dry sense of humour.

_**What do you think of going to a show? My treat. And don’t tell me I shouldn’t be paying for you** _

He waited patiently for the response, which came in after a couple of minutes.

_…What kind of show?_

Dean smirked.

_**One with good music, good dancers and maybe a singer or two. It’s a great act – I’ve seen it before** _

Lying by omission wasn’t really lying, was it? If Castiel chose to take his answer in a different way, it wasn’t his fault. His phone buzzed a minute later.

_Alright. Where shall I meet you?_

_**I’ll pick you up at 9** _

_Ok. See you later_

Dean fist-pumped the air silently as Castiel texted him his address. He couldn’t wait for tonight. He wondered if Castiel had ever been to a strip club before but ultimately decided he hadn’t because the man was far too angelic for a sin like that. He was a virgin after all.

He heard the front door open and close, Gabriel’s chatter floating up from downstairs, only broken by the occasional sound of agreement or question from Sam. He smiled. Gabriel had actually kind of grown on him this past week.

Sam had explained the arrangement and why Gabriel came around to cook dinner every evening and honestly, Dean wasn’t as averse to the idea as he thought he’d be. The guy was friendly and funny and he’d taught Dean a thing or two about cooking during the ‘classes’ with his brother.

Dean had leaned in the doorway of the kitchen last week to watch in amusement as Gabriel taught Sam how to make homemade lasagne and the next thing he knew, Gabriel was ordering him around the kitchen, telling him to grate the parmesan and instructing them both on how to create the perfect béchamel sauce. 

It was actually pretty fun and he’d joined in on the next two sessions as well.

The man’s recipes were amazing too; every meal tasted better than the last and Dean couldn’t ever remember having so much homecooked food.

Gabriel was a good guy and he told hilarious jokes and Dean secretly preferred him to Sam’s other ‘friends’. He didn’t like people who used his little brother.

He padded downstairs and watched Gabriel pull ingredients out of the fridge as he described the preparation of chicken paella. Sam was leaning against the counter, watching the shorter man from behind as he made noises of agreement to show he was listening. There was a small smile lighting his face as he kept his eyes on Gabriel, warm and fond and when Gabriel opened the herb cupboard and couldn’t quite reach the basil, Sam pushed away from the counter and leaned over him as he stretched for the little bunch of leaves. He handed them to Gabriel silently and the shorter man beamed at him before scurrying off in search of pans.

Dean raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Sam leaned against the opposite counter again and watched Gabriel shuffle around the kitchen, that tiny smile still softening his features.

“Dean-o! You sticking around?” Gabriel asked cheerily and Dean realised he looked… healthier than usual. Bursting with energy and enthusiasm.

“I can do,” hummed Dean. His appointment with Castiel wasn’t for a few hours. “Why? Do you have a job for me?”

Gabriel smirked almost smugly and wielded his wooden spoon in the direction of the sink.

“Winchester, wash the veg. Other Winchester measure the rice out. I do love having slaves.”

Sam snorted and Dean shook his head good-naturedly as Gabriel began slicing the chicken. Dean actually enjoyed his playfulness.

Sam suddenly patted his pocket and pulled out an unopened Cadbury’s chocolate bar. 

“Oh, here. Got something for you. I know you haven’t had any in a few days.” He handed the chocolate to Gabriel and both of Dean’s eyebrows flew up in surprise as Gabriel’s face lit up and he grinned at Sam.

“Oh, Sam. You really know how to turn a guy on,” Gabriel purred, sliding the confection from Sam’s grip and making him chuckle. 

“If you two need a room, I can go,” Dean commented and Gabriel laughed as he continued slicing the meat.

Sam, however, had flushed faintly pink. He rolled his eyes and flipped his brother off. “Jerk.”

“Bitch,” replied Dean automatically as he began washing the peppers. What a curious reaction.

He shrugged and elected to ignore it in favour of planning out his evening with Castiel.

 

* * *

 

“…You didn’t mention that we were going to a strip club.”

“I said ‘dancers’, did I not?”

“You didn’t say ‘naked dancers’.”

“Half-naked,” Dean corrected. “This place is classy.”

Castiel sighed and glanced at the Impala. “If I’d have known this was the show, I would have said no.”

Dean took a step towards the entrance. “Give it a chance. Even if the girls aren’t your thing, you can at least appreciate their dancing, right?”

Castiel pulled a long-suffering face. “Dean, this isn’t really my type of establishment.”

“Lots of guys come here and have a good time. It’s just like going to a nightclub.”

“It’s a den of iniquity,” huffed Castiel.

“Only if you pay for that option,” winked Dean.

When Castiel looked like he was thinking of calling a taxi, Dean deflated. “Look, just have a drink with me, watch one dancer and if you don’t like it, we’ll leave, okay?”

Castiel contemplated the idea for a moment before reluctantly nodding. Dean perked up and guided him towards the entrance, paying the fee before they wandered into a lounge area with girls swinging themselves around poles and groups of people chatting amiably, some clapping for the dancers and others too busy catching up with friends to even glance at them. 

The room was dimly lit, the décor simplistic yet tasteful and the bar staff and servers were smartly dressed, smiling at customers and taking drink orders. A couple of dancers were seated in the audience, chatting to guests and probably talking to friends.

No one was being harassed, no one was behaving inappropriately and no one was naked.

Castiel arched an eyebrow but said nothing as they took their seats and ordered their drinks from a waiter who approached them the moment they sat down.

When their drinks came a few minutes later, Castiel finally tore his eyes away from the room to glance at Dean.

“This… isn’t what I was expecting,” he confessed.

Dean chuckled and sipped at his drink, observing the women working the poles for a moment before smiling at Castiel.

“Like I said, this place is classy.”

“You said the dancers have sex with the customers if they pay enough,” Castiel pointed out.

Dean huffed out a laugh. “They might do, but not on the premises. Company policy doesn’t involve sex with guests.”

Castiel quirked his lips. “You’re becoming rather proficient at lying to me.”

Dean held his hands up defensively. “Not my fault you misinterpret my comments.”

Castiel turned his gaze to the dancers, watching one wrap her legs around the pole before arching her back until she flopped backwards gracefully in time with the sultry jazz music thrumming through the speakers.

“Why are you doing this?” Asked Castiel suddenly, focusing on Dean. “What are you trying to achieve?”

Dean frowned and gestured to their drinks. “I just thought it’d be nice to take you out for some fun.”

Castiel shook his head, blue eyes boring into Dean, scrutinising him, trying to figure him out. “What do you gain from trying to tempt me into your bed?”

Dean blinked. “That’s not-”

“I’m under no illusions, Dean. This is an attempt to seduce me, is it not? What I don’t understand is why you’re so desperate to have me. You could have anyone you want. Why are you insistent on pursuing _me?”_

Dean thought about how he’d grown bored with his usual conquests. There was no challenge in getting them into bed anymore. People knew of his reputation and they all wanted his attention, practically begging to be let into his bed just to say they’d spent the night with the infamous man-whore Dean Winchester. 

Castiel was different. Castiel wasn’t impressed by him. Castiel presented him with a challenge; made him think and plan and try new tactics because he saw through every one of Dean’s little games.

He thought about the bet he’d made with his brother; how this had all started. He couldn’t lose. Not only would it be a blow to his pride, he’d lose his car. He couldn’t lose Baby.

Dean plastered on a smile. “Gee, Cas, tell me what you really think.”

The older man frowned. “Castiel,” he corrected tersely. “Answer the question, Dean.”

Dean pursed his lips. “I just want to get to know you better,” he said finally. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Castiel didn’t look like he believed him. He raised his glass to his lips and turned away from Dean, focusing his attention on the dancers once more and making Dean feel oddly… guilty.

Dean scowled at himself and swigged his whisky, signalling for another. They didn’t speak again for a while.

“How are your friends?” Asked Castiel quietly, startling Dean.

He mused over how he hadn’t seen much of his friends recently. He was still angry at Gordon for spiking Castiel’s drink and he was even angrier at his other friends for stating their approval of Gordon’s actions. They couldn’t understand why he didn’t want his potential bed mates doped up and when he told them he only slept with people who gave their full consent, he had an awful feeling they didn’t understand that either.

He had drifted away from them for a little while, only chatting when he ran into them around university. It was only until he cooled down a bit, but right now he was still upset with them. 

Dean shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “Yours?”

“Complaining about their workload. Suspicious about my ‘meeting’ tonight,” huffed Castiel.

Dean lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell them you were coming out with me?”

“You’re not exactly in my friends’ good books right now. Particularly Balthazar’s.” 

“You’re a big boy now. Surely you don’t have to report to them whenever you go anywhere?”

“They may be a little overprotective but they care about me. I’d rather they worry about my safety than not care at all,” Castiel commented and Dean dropped his gaze to his drink. 

He wondered what it would be like to have friends like that.

They returned their attention to the show.

An hour and three drinks later, Castiel was looking loose and relaxed as a smile touched his lips.

“They are very flexible,” he said, eying one girl who was supporting herself on one arm, the rest of her body arched around the pole. “And strong.”

Dean nodded in agreement. “It’s hard work moving like that. I had a go for a couple of months but gave up because I just wasn’t that agile.”

Castiel’s eyebrows rocketed skywards as he whipped his head around to face Dean. 

“You used to pole dance?”

Dean quirked an amused smile. “Is there a problem with that?”

Castiel shook his head quickly. “I just… didn’t expect it.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well, neither did my dad. You should have seen his face when he found me twirling around a pole in a pair of spandex shorts.” He laughed quietly. “I honestly thought he was going to disown me.”

“What did he say?”

“Told me to pack it in and pick up a ‘real sport’. I’ve never seen him so horrified. He said _‘I knew you were a fairy, but can you at least act like a normal man?’_ Luckily for him, I was thinking of giving it up anyway. He threw the pole out the next day.”

Dean swigged his drink as Castiel frowned.

“…Did your father always speak to you like that?”

“Like what?”

“With such… disdain,” Castiel murmured, clearly troubled.

Dean shrugged. “I guess. It got worse when he and Mom divorced. But that was years ago.” He scoffed. “Although we don’t speak at all now, so I’m not sure if that’s any better.”

Castiel’s gaze softened. “You don’t speak to your father?”

“No,” Dean snorted. “Haven’t since I moved out here when I was eighteen and probably never will again. Can’t say it’s a big loss.”

“He’s your father, Dean. The man who raised you,” Castiel said quietly.

“He did a crappy job of it,” huffed Dean bitterly, downing the rest of his drink. “I mean, look at me.” He laughed at himself hollowly and signalled for another drink.

Castiel’s expression was pinched in pity and Dean hated it. He hated when people pitied him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled. “I enjoy my lifestyle. It’s everyone else who has the problem with it.”

“…Including your father?” Castiel asked.

Dean froze before sighing and nodding. “But he doesn’t get to have an opinion because he’s the one who caused it.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean dragged his seat closer to Castiel’s until they were nearly side by side. He didn’t feel like allowing everyone to eavesdrop on this conversation.

“Dad had a good position in the military. A really good position. It’s half the reason why Sam and I have so much money, the other half being Mom’s job. As such, Dad was rarely ever home and when he did come home, he treated us more like soldiers than a family. Mom and Dad used to argue all the time until they finally separated and Mom took Sam with her, leaving six-year-old me with Dad. Dad got worse; started pressuring me to think about a career in the military even though I was only six. He continued treating me like a soldier when all I wanted to do was see Mom and Sammy. 

“I could never impress him either. No matter what I did, no matter what grades I got in school, no matter how many books I read, Dad was never proud of me. In fact, I seemed to disappoint him more than actually make him smile and the only time he ever approved of anything I did was when I learned how to fix cars. He said it would come in useful in the military.

“Mom never came to visit me and she stopped picking up when I called because Dad complained at her for phone bills. Sam was only a baby when he left so I didn’t have his number and after years of feeling like a failure, I decided if I couldn’t make Dad proud of me, at least I’d get some sort of attention from him if I made him angry or disgusted by me. It was the only way I could get him to show emotion or even talk to me as something other than a soldier.

“I let my grades fall and began getting wasted at parties even though I was underage. I got into fights and once had a brush with the cops after I started a bar brawl. When Dad got angry with me and began yelling at me, telling me I was a disappointing son, I decided to up my game just to piss him off more. I think by that time, I just wanted to hurt him for making my life miserable.

“I started bringing guys home and making out with them in front of Dad or just before he entered the house. He was furious with me and told me to stop being so immature. He called me a few other names too, but I won’t go into those. What I didn’t expect was to actually enjoy being with other guys. It’s how I found out I’ll basically sleep with anyone, no matter what they have between their legs.

“I brought everyone home; girls, guys, both, transgendered people, gender-fluid people… I didn’t care. Dad was livid. Even beat me up a couple of times, but by that point I decided to stop listening to him and do whatever I wanted. I didn’t need his attention because all these people would willingly give me theirs just so I’d sleep with them. The second I turned eighteen, I moved to Claremont and began my engineering degree. When Sam turned eighteen, I broke into Mom’s house, found him as miserable as I had been and told him to move to Claremont with me.”

Dean leaned back in his seat. “So that’s my crappy life story. Your turn.”

Castiel gaped at Dean with wide eyes. 

“Dean… I… You…” He licked his lips and tried again. “I’m sorry, Dean. I had no idea.”

Dean snorted. “Of course you didn’t. No one does. I have a slutty reputation to uphold and I don’t want anyone pitying me.” He narrowed his eyes at Castiel. “…You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

Castiel blinked and shook his head slowly. “It’s not my business to tell anyone about your life.” He frowned. “But are you certain sleeping with anything that breathes is a good idea? Your father isn’t here; you’ve got nothing to prove anymore.”

“It’s not about that,” shrugged Dean. “I like the connection to other people that sex brings. I like the praising and the touching and groans of approval. I enjoy people wanting me. What’s wrong with that?”

Castiel wilted a little. “…You’re attention-starved,” he said quietly. “You crave approval from other people because you never had it from your own parents.”

Dean paused, then shrugged defensively. “I just like sex. I like pleasing other people.”

Castiel licked his lips. “Because you could never please your father,” he murmured. “Dean… do you really think this is healthy?”

Dean crossed his arms. “Why would you care?” He huffed, suddenly uncomfortable with the route the conversation was taking. “I’m not your problem. You don’t even like me.”

Castiel creased his brow. “What makes you think I don’t like you? I’m concerned about your health, Dean. Both physical and mental. Not only is sex with so many people statistically associated with life-changing diseases, craving attention that deeply can’t be healthy for your headspace. You’ve been denied of so many things vital for a child’s development, that it’s had a massive impact on your adult life.”

“What are you? My shrink?” Snapped Dean curtly. He didn’t appreciate people telling him all his faults. He got enough of that from his dad.

Castiel clamped his mouth shut and switched his focus to the dancers again. The silence was heavy and Dean’s chest hurt. He felt like he’d been opened up and dissected, helpless to fight back. He wanted an argument; wanted Castiel to scowl at him and tell him how stupid he was, how much of a worthless failure he was. He wanted Castiel to take him home, throw him onto the bed and punish him. He wanted to pleasure Castiel, hear his groans and wrap his lips around his thick length. He wanted Castiel to tell him how good a whore he was, whispering encouragements and murmuring words of approval.

But Castiel wasn’t even looking at him. He wasn’t paying the slightest bit of notice to Dean and the younger man hated it.

He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, restless and desperate for some sort of touch. He felt vulnerable. He’d never told anyone his life story and now Castiel wasn’t even facing him. The tension was thick and awkward and Dean wanted to crawl into Castiel’s lap and kiss his face and rub up against him until the other man paid some attention to him.

He scowled at himself in confusion. He’d never felt like this before. He’d never been this needy for someone to just look at him.

Except maybe his dad, but that was for different reasons.

…Maybe it was because Castiel was the first person to look past his reputation and take an interest in his life. Everybody else just acted interested in him so he would sleep with them. Castiel was genuinely interested in his story and feelings. 

Dean’s own friends weren’t interested in him and he’d slept with them, too.

Dean frowned. Why was he being so pathetic? Who cared what other people thought of him? Castiel was just a bet. He meant nothing to Dean.

Castiel finished his drink and leaned back in his seat. Dean watched the alcohol cloud his gaze slightly; not enough for him to be drunk, but enough for him to have lowered his inhibitions.

One dancer was on stage now, bending her body erotically in time with the music. Castiel’s gaze traced her movements in the dim lighting. 

Determined to rid himself of his vulnerable feelings, Dean shifted a little close to Castiel.

“You like her?” He asked lowly. 

“She’s a good dancer,” Castiel commented quietly, eyes never leaving the stage.

“I could do that move,” Dean whispered, inching closer to Castiel as the dancer wrapped her legs around the pole and let her body fall until she was arching in time with the saxophone.

Castiel cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

Dean hummed in agreement. “Takes a lot of control. Have to have strong thigh muscles and a flexible back.”

Castiel nodded minutely in acknowledgement and Dean leaned closer to his ear, until Castiel could feel his warm breath ghosting over his jaw line.

“Once you’ve wrapped your thighs around the pole, you thrust your hips upwards and let yourself go. The drop is exhilarating that first time.”

Castiel swallowed subtly and Dean smirked. He gently placed a hand on Castiel’s knee.

“Maybe I could teach you one day?” He murmured beside Castiel’s ear as he slowly slid his palm up the other man’s thigh. “Show you how to trust your body. How to bend it in ways you’ve never experienced.” 

He slipped his hand around the inside of Castiel’s thigh, massaging it gently. Castiel licked his lips and ever so slightly parted his legs wider.

“Think you’ve got the strength for that?” Purred Dean. “Think you can arch your back like she does?” 

As Castiel continued to observe the dancer, Dean’s hand travelled a little higher. He brushed two fingers lightly over Castiel’s crotch and smirked at the hard bulge there. He massaged Castiel’s thigh again and watched his hips give a tiny involuntary thrust upwards. 

“No one has to know,” Dean breathed. “It can be our little secret.”

His hand shifted to rub slowly at the bulge in Castiel’s trousers and Castiel pressed into his palm for a moment before he snapped his gaze to Dean and suddenly stood, cheeks flushed.

“It’s getting late,” he stated. “I should be getting home.”

Caught off-guard and a little put-out, Dean frowned. “What, do you have a curfew or something? Stay a little longer.”

Castiel shook his head firmly. “I have to go.”

Dean stared at him for a moment before eventually sighing. “Alright, let me just find the car keys-”

“I’ll get a cab.”

Dean’s head snapped up. “What? Don’t be stupid. Let me take you home-”

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel stated before marching out of the building.

Dean stared after him and shrunk into his seat, feeling suddenly alone and lost. He had a sinking sensation in his stomach and he wanted to crawl after Castiel and apologise; kiss his neck and touch his arms until he fixed whatever he’d just broken between them.

He glanced at the dancer on stage and felt like an ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean-centric chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

Gabriel shot Sam a smile as he slid into the Lamborghini. The younger man smiled back as he pulled out of the car park and headed onto the familiar road that took them to his place.

Gabriel was content to recline into his seat and watch the world go by, but he frowned in confusion when he realised the scenery had changed.

“This isn’t the way to your place, kiddo,” he commented and Sam nodded slightly.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Where are we going?”

Sam shrugged. “Thought we could go out tonight.” He sounded like he was trying to be nonchalant and failing miserably at it.

Gabriel felt a grin pulling at his lips. “Oh? Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” chuckled Sam when he realised Gabriel obviously liked surprises.

Twenty minutes later they pulled up outside a cinema. 

“I was thinking we could eat out tonight and watch a movie,” Sam said.

Gabriel’s face lit up and he bolted out of the car as Sam opened the door. He trotted over to Sam’s side, happy to follow the younger man.

Sam led them into a small restaurant outside the cinema; an Italian and Gabriel was bursting with excitement as they slipped into the booth and ordered drinks. 

Sam watched him in amusement. “You’re practically vibrating. Everything okay?”

Gabriel nodded. “Never been to the movies before.”

Sam’s expression faltered and he wondered what kind of childhood Gabriel had experienced. How had a twenty-eight-year-old man never been to the movies?

“Oh,” Sam murmured. “Well, we’ll have to buy toffee-flavoured popcorn and a mountain of chocolate then.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened and Sam was half-convinced the man was going to ask him to marry him. 

“You’re going to eat something other than rabbit food?” Teased Gabriel instead. “Aren’t you concerned about your teeth falling out?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I eat chocolate… sometimes.”

Gabriel smirked and picked up his menu.

They ordered a few minutes later (tagliatelle for Gabriel, salad for Sam, making Gabriel laugh) and Sam found himself glancing over Gabriel’s features as he tasted his drink. He looked healthier than that first day Sam had approached him outside the kitchens. There was colour in his cheeks now and his face was fuller. He no longer looked thin and constantly exhausted and he seemed to greet each day with enthusiasm rather than weariness. His eyes were brighter too and Sam tilted his head because had Gabriel’s eyes always looked like golden whisky? There was something inviting about the way they twinkled with mischief.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

Sam snapped out of his musings to find Gabriel quirking an eyebrow at him.

“You okay there, kiddo? Did you find my soul or was there just a black hole where it should have been?”

Sam snorted and busied himself with his drink. 

“Tell me about yourself, Sam,” Gabriel said suddenly and Sam’s head whipped upwards in surprise.

Gabriel shrugged. “You know my story. What’s yours? What was your childhood like? What kind of family do you have?” He snorted. “Actually, I bet I can answer that. You have amazing, loving parents who buy you everything you want and your childhood consisted of enormous yachts, private schools, hundreds of exotic vacations and competitions with your brother over who had the latest technology.” He winked playfully. “Am I right?”

Sam dropped his gaze. “Sort of,” he said quietly and Gabriel smirked triumphantly.

“My parents divorced when I was two,” Sam continued softly, making Gabriel’s expression fall. 

“I’m sorry, kid- ”

“And my mom took me away from my dad and brother. I never saw either of them for sixteen years after that.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened, mouth falling open in shock. Sam kept his gaze low, swirling his straw absently around his glass.

“Mom told me Dad wasn’t cut out to be a father or a husband. She said he’d treated us more like soldiers than a family and he was only around half the time anyway. She said she didn’t want me to grow up in a home like that and when I asked why she hadn’t taken Dean with her, she told me he’d sided with Dad and didn’t want to leave. Turns out the court had ruled Dean was to stay with Dad in the house he’d grown up in because Dad had complained Mom was trying to take his kids away from him. Since I was still so young, they ruled I was to stay with Mom. Mom didn’t want me contacting Dad and since I didn’t really know him, I never wanted to anyway. The only person I really remembered was Dean, but Mom told me she didn’t want me contacting him either and since I didn’t have his number, I couldn’t.

“I was private-schooled and Mom _did_ buy me anything I asked for. I sometimes wondered where she got the money from but whenever I asked about her job, her answers were vague and she skirted around the topic. We went on quite a few vacations, but Mom often disappeared for hours or even days at a time on them. At home, I was usually left alone with whatever sum of money Mom had decided would substitute for her not being there. 

“Turned out she was a bounty-hunter. And not exactly a government approved one. I was so mad at her for how she got her money and I begged her to stop. Instead of lying to me about how she couldn’t stop or actually listening to her twelve-year-old son, she said if I told anyone, she’d shoot them. How messed up is that?” He scoffed.

Gabriel had suddenly turned very pale and Sam huffed in amusement.

“Don’t worry, she’s in prison.”

Gabriel breathed out shakily and Sam shook his head bitterly.

“I never had parents who actively hated me or brothers who beat me up though.”

Gabriel frowned in sympathy. “Because your brother and father weren’t there and your mother left you alone when you needed her most.”

Sam shrugged. “Since Mom never gave me any attention, I quickly learned that money gave me other people’s. I suppose that’s why I pay for everyone and everything. If I pay out, they stick around, unlike Mom.” 

He scowled. “You know she didn’t even care when I came out as bi? Handed me a wad of hundreds and told me ‘That’s great, I’m flying to Kentucky tonight and I won’t be back for a week. Get some condoms.’” Sam huffed. “I was fourteen.”

He sighed. “No matter how hard I tried in school, no matter what skills I learned, she never took any real notice of me; too interested in her work. The only reason I kept all that stuff up was because the teachers praised me and it was the only encouragement I was going to get since my mom didn’t care.”

He glanced at Gabriel finally. “I know it probably sounds like I’m whining about nothing compared to everything you’ve been through, but… it was a big deal to me at the time. 

“When I turned eighteen, my brother broke into the house and I left with him for Claremont. He was practically a stranger but anything was better than staying in that house. A couple of months later, it turned out to be the right choice because Mom was arrested. They questioned me but because I had been a minor up until that point, they were pretty easy on me. I told them I hadn’t been allowed to tell anyone about Mom’s career because she’d threated to shoot whoever I confided in, so they let me go. I haven’t seen her since and honestly, I don’t want to.”

Gabriel gaped at Sam.

“…I had no idea. I thought…”

“You thought I was an asshole because my parents taught me to be?” Snorted Sam. “Yeah, well… turns out I learned it all by myself.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Gabriel said firmly. “I was going to say I thought you’d had a good childhood. Apparently, it was as bad as, if not worse than mine. I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t realise you were so attention-starved. I can’t believe you had to go through all that.”

Sam straightened. “Compared to what you went through-”

“Doesn’t matter,” huffed Gabriel. “It doesn’t matter how your experiences compare to mine. You were a child and you got separated from your brother and father. Your mother didn’t give you the love you needed, so you decided to buy other people’s, regardless of who they were.”

Sam averted his gaze. He’d expected Gabriel to laugh and call him a ‘whiny baby’ like his friends had when he’d told them about his childhood. They’d said he had money, so he shouldn’t complain. He was confused by Gabriel’s sympathy.

“Hey listen, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you, kiddo. I know what it’s like to have a crappy family and sometimes, you just need someone to talk to. Even if it’s just to complain. You won’t get any judgement from me,” Gabriel smiled and as Sam took that statement in, gazing at Gabriel’s face in puzzled gratitude, he felt something stir in his chest. 

“Um… thanks,” he mumbled quietly, confused at the sudden desire to touch Gabriel. He clasped his hands together instead. 

“So… have you got anything interesting planned for this weekend?”

 

* * *

 

Dinner was delicious and they sauntered into the cinema with satisfied smiles and amicable chatter. Sam bought tickets for some crappy horror flick (which he’d been delighted to learn that Gabriel shared his liking for) and once they moved to the snack stand, Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Gabriel was practically bouncing in excitement. They bought some popcorn and drinks and a couple of bags of chocolate (one of which Gabriel opened before they had even reached their screen), before wandering over to the correct room.

However, before they could reach the theatre, Sam’s name was called.

He turned around in surprise and found Ruby, Azazel, Bela and Raphael staring at him. They flicked their gazes to Gabriel in confusion before focusing on him again, smirks tugging at their lips.

“Why, Sam, you wouldn’t happen to be on a date would you?” Teased Bela.

Sam frowned and shook his head. “Of course not. Just felt like going to the movies.”

Raphael snorted. “Good. I was beginning to question why you’d lowered your standards so drastically.”

Sam missed Gabriel’s frown. “I’ve not lowered my standards,” Sam shrugged. “I’m still dating Ruby.”

Azazel looked particularly irritated by that statement, but Ruby nodded in agreement. She glanced over Gabriel in disdain.

“Why is that loser with you? Surely, you’re not that desperate for attention? I know Mommy didn’t love you but that doesn’t mean you have to take homeless freaks out to dinner.”

Sam’s medical friends began to laugh and Sam pulled a face. He hated being laughed at, especially when someone brought up his family. He jerked a thumb towards Gabriel.

“He’s just my cook. He can’t afford to buy his own food so I told him if he cooked my dinner, I’d let him eat with me. We’re not friends. I just wanted to go to the movies and because he was accompanying me at the time, I felt obliged to take him too. It’s not like I’d leave him unsupervised in my suite anyway.”

His friends sobered and nodded thoughtfully. 

“That makes sense,” hummed Ruby before grinning. “So, you’ve got your own cook now? You going to invite us over one evening? Let us see how good the staff is?” She eyed Gabriel with a smirk.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Maybe we could also have a candlelit dinner, just the two of us.”

Azazel looked angry now and Sam’s lips tugged upwards in satisfaction. He loved riling Azazel up. 

Ruby glanced at him through long lashes. “I look forward to it,” she purred.

“What are you watching anyway?” Asked Bela, clearly bored with the conversation already.

“Birdemic,” Sam replied and all four friends scrunched their noses up in distaste. 

“What is it with you and crappy horror? You’re so weird,” complained Ruby. “Why can’t you just be normal?”

Sam shrugged. He’d expected that response and tried not to let it get to him.

“Whatever,” she huffed. “Have you got forty dollars for the snack stand? I’m running low.”

Sam nodded and pulled out forty dollars from his wallet and crossed the distance to his friends. Ruby took the money from him and pecked his cheek. She flicked her hair behind her ear.

“Thanks, babe,” she sang before turning her back on him and leading the small group towards the aisles of chocolate and other sugary foods.

Sam watched them leave and turned back to Gabriel to continue their journey towards their theatre, but paused in confusion when he spotted Gabriel glaring at him with a clenched jaw and hurt playing about his gaze.

“Are we ready to go?” Sam asked carefully, gesturing towards their theatre. He wasn’t sure what had brought that expression to Gabriel’s face, but he decidedly didn’t like it.

Gabriel placed his snacks and drink on the floor and stood straight, expression full of defiance.

“I’m not your staff,” he hissed, jabbing a finger at Sam’s chest. “Find a new ‘cook’.”

And with that, he marched past Sam, shoving him with a shoulder on his way out of the building.

Stunned, Sam dumped his own snacks on the floor and ran after the shorter man, wincing at the snickers he could hear from his friends. They were going to tease him about this on Monday.

He caught Gabriel by the shoulder and whirled him around, blinking at the unadulterated anger and hurt on his features.

“Screw you,” snapped Gabriel, shoving at Sam once more as he tried to escape the younger man’s grip, but Sam grabbed his wrists and held him steady.

“What is your problem?” Asked Sam incredulously.

Gabriel’s gaze turned fierce as he attempted to snatch his hands from Sam’s grasp, but to no avail.

“Let go,” he growled, but Sam shook his head. He apparently didn’t like Gabriel being upset and he needed to understand what he could do to fix the smaller man.

“A moment ago, you were excited to see the movie. Now you’re behaving like a bratty child,” huffed Sam. “What’s wrong?”

Gabriel glared at Sam heatedly. “Don’t pretend to care. You’ve made your opinion of me quite clear.”

Sam scowled. “What are you talking about?”

Gabriel scoffed. “I’m nothing but your personal cook. A loser and a freak. A homeless charity case.”

Sam’s scowl deepened. “Those were Ruby’s words.”

“Which you didn’t deny!” Snapped Gabriel. “In fact, you practically agreed with her! You let your so-called ‘friends’ treat me like trash and then you joined in with them!”

“You know I don’t think of you as my personal cook,” frowned Sam. “You know I don’t think you’re a loser or a freak.” He really didn’t. He was actually beginning to grow rather fond of Gabriel’s quirks and personality. The older man was a refreshing change from his usual friends.

Gabriel stopped struggling and frowned at Sam.

“…Then why tell your friends that you do? Are you really that embarrassed to be seen around me? Am I truly that repulsive?”

Sam’s eyes widened at the wounded tone. Why was Gabriel so upset by a few meaningless words?

“What? No!” _Was_ he embarrassed to be seen with Gabriel? “I just… I had to say those things to them, otherwise they’d shun me. I’d be the laughing stock of the group. I have to fit in or else I’ll have no friends. That’s how it works.”

Gabriel sagged a little. “Why would you want friends like that?” He asked. “Why would you want friends who make fun of you and shun you when you don’t agree with them? Why would you want friends who insult you then demand money from you?”

Sam’s brows pinched together. “Because… because…” He snapped his mouth shut. “Because I don’t have any other friends,” he admitted softly. “Other than you,” he added, even quieter.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. “I thought we weren’t friends? That’s what you told them.”

Sam straightened. “That’s because I lied. Of course you’re my friend. I just didn’t tell them that because I knew they’d tease me about it.”

“And how do you think hearing that makes me feel?” Asked Gabriel softly.

Sam opened his mouth then clamped it shut again. “But… but it’s not how I really feel and you know that,” he offered weakly.

Gabriel shook his head. “The fact that you have to lie to your friends about me says a lot about you. You treated me like dirt. You insinuated I was a thief. You told them you didn’t trust me and let them make fun of me.” His brows drew together. “You hurt me, Sam. You hurt me to save your own reputation, uncaring of how your words may affect mine.”

Gabriel pursed his lips. “My reputation may not be as shiny as yours, but I’ve never been a thief and I’ve never been untrustworthy. You might have just ruined that by lying to your friends. You know I don’t have much; are you really willing to take my integrity from me too?”

Guilt settled heavily in the pit of Sam’s stomach and he dropped his gaze as he released Gabriel’s hands. 

“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t think I…” He licked his lips. “I can go back inside and tell them the truth. I’ll explain to them that you are my friend and you’re not my cook. I’ll tell them I lied.”

Finally, Gabriel’s lips subtly quirked upwards. “I’m not asking you to do that, Sam. I’m not asking you to alienate your friends over me. However, I will ask that in the future, you don’t make up lies about me to make yourself seem better. I have feelings too. Remember that. I’m not asking you to tell your friends how wonderful I am, but I don’t like being made fun of, just as you don’t.”

Sam wilted slightly. He really had messed up. “Gabriel… I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

Gabriel looked a little surprised by the confession but he nodded and gestured towards the cinema.

“Apology accepted. Now, are we still up for this movie?”

Sam perked up immediately and nodded, joining Gabriel’s side as they re-entered the building and retrieved their abandoned snacks. 

And if he made a point of slinging his arm around Gabriel’s shoulders when his friends glanced at them, that was his own business.

 

* * * 

 

Monday arrived and Castiel sighed when he spotted Dean waiting for him outside the mathematics department. Gadreel glanced at him curiously as he began looking around for a side exit. 

“Castiel?”

Castiel shook his head and headed towards a small door leading to the rear of the building. Gadreel frowned and followed him.

Castiel tugged at the door and scowled when it didn’t budge. He clicked his tongue in frustration and swivelled his head, searching for another exit.

“…Is there any particular reason you have a phobia of the front entrance?” Asked Gadreel.

Castiel slumped and turned to face his friend. “Dean’s waiting outside,” he admitted.

Gadreel arched an eyebrow. “…Would you like me to chase him off?”

Castiel quirked his lips into a smile at that. “As much as I would love to see your Rottweiler impression, I’m not going to ask you to cause a scene for me.” He sagged in defeat. “I’m going to have to face him at some point, I suppose.”

“What happened this weekend?” Asked Gadreel carefully. “You said Dean took you to a club, but you haven’t elaborated on that. Did he... did he do something?” Gadreel dropped his gaze and mumbled out his next question. “…Did _you_ do something with him?”

Castiel stared at his friend with wide, indignant eyes. “I didn’t leap into his bed if that’s what you’re insinuating,” he huffed.

Gadreel ducked his head in apology. “So, what happened then? Why are you suddenly so skittish around him? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Castiel rolled his shoulders in an awkward shrug. “I guess I don’t like the idea of being his ‘target’.”

Gadreel shot him a look which suggested he didn’t believe him. He didn’t push the matter further though and Castiel was grateful.

“I doubt he’ll approach you with me accompanying you,” said Gadreel. “And if he does, I’ll make sure he understands you’re not in the mood for his games.”

Castiel smiled appreciatively at his friend and they made their way towards the main entrance. As soon as they stepped outside, Dean trotted over to them, a brown paper bag tucked under his arm.

“Cas, wait up- ”

“It’s Castiel,” interrupted Gadreel blandly. “To you at least. And he doesn’t wish to speak with you.”

Dean hesitated, lips pulling downwards, before completely ignoring Gadreel and looking to Castiel.

“I wanted to apologise for Friday. I crossed a line and I’m sorry.”

“He’s not interested,” said Gadreel.

“And who are you? His bodyguard?” Snapped Dean heatedly before turning his focus back to Castiel. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I bought you something; a little apology gift. Here.” He thrust the paper bag towards Castiel, who glanced at it warily before pushing it back towards Dean.

“You can’t buy my forgiveness, Dean,” Castiel huffed. “Please leave me alone. I’m not interested in becoming your bed warmer.”

He tried to walk away, but Dean caught him by the shoulder, ignoring Gadreel’s warning growl of his name.

“What?” Snapped Castiel.

“I’m not trying to buy your forgiveness,” sighed Dean. “I just…” He trailed off and shook his head. “Just take the bag, okay?”

“I don’t want your gifts.”

“I’m trying to apologise!” Exploded Dean frustratedly. He ran a hand through his hair and took a calming breath. “I messed up. I know that. I ruined a good night because I made a stupid decision and I’m not going to stop thinking about it until I fix things between us. I know we’re not friends, but I despise the idea of you hating me.”

Castiel cocked an eyebrow. Why was Dean so intent on coaxing him into his bed? That’s all this was, right? Dean trying to improve his chances of sleeping with him?

Dean thrust the bag towards him again and this time, Castiel took it. He was too tired to start an argument.

Dean ran a hand through his hair again and Castiel began to wonder if it was a nervous habit.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said again and he sounded sincere. He glanced at Gadreel, who was shooting him a filthy look, and sighed before turning on his heel and walking away.

“He just doesn’t give up,” commented Gadreel. 

Castiel shook his head absently as he peered into the bag and pulled out its contents. In his palm lay a jar of raw, unprocessed honey. It was a cream colour; thick and heavy and lying on top of the viscous liquid was a piece of honeycomb, mainly for decoration, but also to show that the product was straight from the hive.

Gadreel frowned in confusion. “What’s that?”

“Honey,” supplied Castiel softly as he inspected the jar.

“It’s white,” said Gadreel, even more puzzled. 

“Yes,” agreed Castiel. “It’s been scraped directly off the hive.”

Gadreel curled his lips a little in distaste. “Is that… sanitary?”

Castiel chuckled and unscrewed the lid. He dipped his finger in the sticky white substance and brought it to his lips, smirking when Gadreel shuddered.

Sweetness burst across his tongue and he crunched the tiny crumbs of honeycomb between his teeth, smiling at the texture and the sugary flavour. The honey itself was smooth and thick, oozing over his tongue like treacle and it reminded Castiel of lazy Sunday afternoons spent with his mother in the kitchen, baking cakes and other sinful treats.

He carefully screwed the lid back on the jar and tucked the honey into its bag. He’d forgotten how delicious natural honey tasted; usually picking up the most convenient squeezy bottle from the cheapest superstore. Maybe he should splash out on the natural stuff every once in a while.

He stared at the bag for a few moments. Why had Dean chosen honey as an apology gift? It didn’t seem like his usual style. He was honestly surprised Dean hadn’t thrown money at something big and flashy and entirely too vulgar and gifted him that instead.

Not that Castiel was complaining about the simple gift. He loved bees and everything they were capable of. In fact, it felt like Dean had gone out purposefully to buy him something he loved, which was a strange thought because how could Dean possibly know that-

The park.

When they’d had that first meeting in the park, he had told Dean about his love of bees.

Dean had remembered.

Castiel blinked at the bag. He was stunned that Dean had remembered such a small, trivial comment. 

…How thoughtful.

“Castiel?”

Gadreel’s concerned voice snapped him out of his musings. He tilted his head at his friend and Gadreel straightened. 

“Are we ready to meet up with the others or would you like me to leave you two alone for a moment?” He asked drily, gesturing to the bag.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You’re spending far too much time with Balthazar.” He placed the honey in his college bag and began walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are the boys starting to change, do you think? ;)


	9. Chapter 9

Gabriel watched Sam’s face go through a series of expressions as Ruby chatted to him. Confusion, uncertainty, pensiveness and finally agreement. The taller man smiled and leaned down to peck Ruby on the cheek, but she stopped him before he could make contact and pointed over to Gabriel with an ugly smirk.

Sam blinked in surprise and glanced over to Gabriel and, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Gabriel turned away. If they were going to gossip about him, couldn’t they at least make an effort to do it behind his back?

Sam returned his attention to Ruby and said something that made her frown. After a moment she shrugged and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Sam smiled and leaned in for a kiss, but frowned when she whirled around before he got the chance. She called something over her shoulder as she walked away.

Sam glanced at her before returning to Gabriel and unlocking the car. Gabriel said nothing as he slid inside the uncomfortable Lamborghini and turned towards the window, hoping if he didn’t mention anything, he wouldn’t find out what Ruby and Sam had been saying about him.

“There’s a party on tonight at Raphael’s,” said Sam, effectively dashing Gabriel’s hopes.

“Oh,” said Gabriel as he unbuckled his seatbelt and made to get out of the car. He knew when he wasn’t wanted and he definitely wouldn’t need to cook for Sam tonight if the younger man was going to a party. He didn’t need to eat today anyway. It’s not like he was going to starve.

Sam stared at him a little oddly as he opened the door.

“…I take it you don’t want to go then?”

Gabriel paused and turned back to Sam with a look of confusion. 

“…Am I invited?” He asked cautiously.

Sam shrugged. “You can be my plus one if you like. Did you have any other plans tonight?”

Gabriel shook his head. He never had any plans.

Sam offered him a small smile. “Cool. We’ll take some drinks. Any preferences?”

Gabriel shook his head slowly. He didn’t drink much alcohol because he couldn’t afford it. “Something sweet?” He offered weakly.

Sam nodded and fired up the engine. They pulled out of the campus grounds and onto the main road and Gabriel glanced down at his lap, wondering if there was some sort of catch to the invitation. He didn’t fancy being laughed at by dozens of people.

Sam glanced at him through the corner of his eye. “…Did you want to get changed?” He asked carefully, referring to Gabriel’s ratty, worn clothes.

Gabriel averted his gaze embarrassedly. He hadn’t been shopping for new clothes because he didn’t have any cash to spare. 

“I’m fine,” he said instead. “Unless you think I smell?” He joked, covering his shame with humour like he usually did.

Sam shook his head and gave Gabriel a look that said he knew exactly why the older man didn’t want to change into a new set of clothes. They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

“…I could buy you a new outfit if you’d like,” murmured Sam after a few minutes. 

Gabriel grimaced. He hated it when people pitied him.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. His face was burning.

Sam frowned. “It’s no problem.”

“I said I’m fine,” Gabriel bit out, a little harshly.

Sam screwed up his face in frustration. “If you can’t afford one, I’ll get one for you. It’s really no trouble. Don’t make a big fuss over this.”

Gabriel bristled. He didn’t need some rich snob throwing money at him to make him into something he wasn’t.

“What is it about _‘no’_ don’t you understand?” Snapped Gabriel.

Sam tightened his grip on the wheel. “Why are you fighting me on this?” He hissed. “I’m just trying to help. You can’t go to Raphael’s party looking like that!”

Gabriel crossed his arms. “Why not? I go to college like this every day. This is the only style of clothing I wear. Why do I suddenly have to change for one of your friend’s parties?”

Sam bit his lip, stamping down on his thoughts and that only served to anger Gabriel more. He knew exactly what was going through Sam’s mind and he was going to get it out of the younger man.

“Come on, Sam. Speak up. Why do you want me to change?”

“Forget it,” growled Sam.

Gabriel turned to face him, a nasty sneer in place. “No, come on, kid. Spit it out. Why do I have to change for your friends?”

“Because I don’t want my friends seeing you accompanying me when you’re dressed like _that_ ,” huffed Sam finally. 

Gabriel snorted derisively. “You don’t want your rich classmates seeing you with a filthy peasant?”

Sam gritted his teeth. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” huffed Gabriel, turning away from the younger man. 

“Is it such a terrible thing to want to buy you some good quality clothing?”

“No, it’s just the reasons behind it that make me sick,” scoffed Gabriel. “Pull over. I can walk home.”

“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Sam. “I’m not making you walk all the way home when I know you’ve not eaten anything all day. I know you think I’m an asshole but give me some credit.”

Gabriel clamped his mouth shut in surprise as he stared at Sam. The younger man was wearing a sour expression but there was also a hint of hurt behind his gaze and Gabriel began to wonder if he’d been too harsh on the other man. After all, he clearly cared about Gabriel enough to make sure he didn’t go hungry, which was quite a shock.

Gabriel swallowed his anger and dropped his gaze to his lap once more. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “That was unfair of me.”

Sam exhaled defeatedly. “…Well, you’re not entirely to blame.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Then, Sam shook his head.

“I don’t… I don’t mean to be so rude all the time. I know you think I’m a jerk and you’re right; most of the time I probably am. Sometimes though… I don’t… I don’t know I’m… doing it.”

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow and glanced over to the younger man, watching his brows pinch together as he tried to sort through his own brain. Gabriel sagged.

“I guess I’m a little too defensive sometimes,” he confessed. “I try to make an argument out of things that I shouldn’t and I don’t trust people all that easily. I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam quirked a weak smile. “Can we start again?”

Gabriel’s lips tugged upwards and he nodded.

Sam licked his lips and straightened. “May I buy you a new outfit for the party because you deserve a treat and I want you to feel good about yourself for once?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rocketed skywards. Sam wanted to buy him clothes so Gabriel could feel good about himself? That was… sweet, actually. He hadn’t even realised Sam had noticed his shame over his appearance.

He licked his lips. “Umm… okay,” he said quietly.

The younger man’s face brightened. “Cool. We have a few hours to kill before the party starts. Might as well find something you really like.”

Gabriel blinked at him. “Thank you, Sam,” he murmured sincerely and Sam shot him a grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made Gabriel’s chest feel light and airy.

He found a smile pulling at his own lips as they turned off the main road.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel ran his fingers down his new leather jacket once more. He’d assumed Sam would dress him up in a pretentious penguin suit with coat tails, starched shirt and all the trimmings. He’d assumed Sam would try to make him look like something he wasn’t.

Sam hadn’t.

Gabriel’s new look consisted of a dark red V-neck with mid-length sleeves, fitted black trousers that were not only comfortable, but also highlighted his rear, and a black leather jacket that looked slick and strangely tasteful. Sam had even bought him a pair of black and red gradient Oxford shoes that Gabriel absolutely adored.

Overall, Gabriel loved his new outfit. It wasn’t too flashy or vulgar and he felt comfortable, almost proud that he looked nice for once.

He pulled a face and scratched at the scruff on his jaw and above his lip. He wished he’d bothered to shave this morning.

Sam side-eyed him as they approached Raphael’s door. The house was huge and ornate and even the car in the drive looked like it cost more than Gabriel would ever earn in a lifetime. How a student could afford to live here, Gabriel had no clue.

Gabriel scratched at his scruff again.

Sam smirked in amusement. “Relax, Gabriel. You look gorgeous.”

Gabriel dropped his hand and smiled at Sam in gratitude before the younger man’s words sunk in and he whipped his head around again to face Sam, eyes wide.

“What did you just say?”

A tinge of pink coloured Sam’s cheeks as he rang the doorbell.

“I said you look fine,” he huffed and Gabriel swore that wasn’t what he’d originally said.

He remained quiet though and a few seconds later the door swung open, revealing a smirking Raphael and smug Bela attached to his arm.

“Samuel,” Raphael drawled. “A pleasure to see you.”

Gabriel’s skin crawled at the tone. Somehow, he thought that was a lie.

Sam merely smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. “Thanks for the invitation,” he said, politely.

Raphael glanced at Gabriel, eying his body with a raised eyebrow. “Milton. You clean up well. Sometimes it pays to make an effort.”

Gabriel frowned at the concealed insult as Raphael opened the door wider to allow them both entrance. Still, he stuck close to Sam and resisted the urge to stuff his hands into his pockets.

They followed their host to the kitchen, where an array of exotic food was laid out over the island countertop, and Gabriel felt a little thrill when passing party guests flicked their gazes over him in interest. He’d never had anyone look at him like that before. In the past, he’d slept with people out of boredom and lack of anything better to do. There had never been any lust or true attraction on either side.

He felt kind of empowered.

All because of a new wardrobe.

“Most guests are outside, around the pool,” stated Raphael. “You are welcome inside the house if you wish, however refrain from snooping around the upper floor.” He eyed Gabriel pointedly and the blonde scowled. That was just rude.

“The food is to be savoured, not shovelled onto your plate. This isn’t a buffet of cocktail sausages and finger foods,” hummed Raphael as he gestured to the bowls of golden-green caviar and muscles and dozens of other fancy foods that Gabriel was convinced at least eighty percent of the guests here didn’t enjoy despite them eating.

With that sentence clearly aimed at him, Gabriel plastered on a tight smirk.

“Did you know the most expensive caviar is from the Albino Beluga sturgeon? It’s white-gold in colour and is the rarest in the world. I see you’ve gone for the less expensive and poorer quality Chinese Kaluga caviar.” Gabriel spared a glance at the dish, noting the small silver serving spoon. “I’d also suggest using a mother of pearl caviar spoon to serve with next time, as it doesn’t taint the delicate taste of the eggs.”

Raphael’s eyes widened and a few surrounding guests gaped at Gabriel in surprise.

Beside him, Sam held back a snicker and Gabriel couldn’t help but smile. Good to see at least one person in this herd of rich asshats had a sense of humour.

Raphael clamped his mouth shut with a filthy glare aimed at Gabriel. Then he whirled on his heel and stalked into the garden.

As the other guests turned away, murmuring amongst themselves and turning their nose up at the caviar on their plates as though they’d known all along that they weren’t eating the best quality fish eggs, Sam sidled closer to Gabriel.

“You’re passionate about fish eggs, then?” He whispered.

Gabriel chuckled and shook his head. “Think they’re utterly disgusting. Doesn’t mean I don’t know my types though. Unfortunately, it’s part of my curriculum.”

Sam grinned and glanced over the exotic spread. “I would kill for a cocktail sausage right now,” he murmured.

Gabriel couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat. “Who serves foie gras at a party?” He whispered, nodding to the pâté-like dish at the opposite end of the counter.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know what half of these things are,” he admitted softly and Gabriel glanced at him with a small smile. It was the first time Sam had confessed he wasn’t as knowledgeable in something as he usually made out to be.

“Point the dishes out to me and I’ll tell you what they are,” offered Gabriel.

Sam nodded at Gabriel gratefully and they began making their way around the counter, Sam asking about the food and Gabriel quietly answering so as not to expose Sam to his friends and their shallow judgements.

With food on their plates, the pair headed out to the pool area, which was decorated with fairy lights and vibrant flowers. The garden was huge, with lush green grass and sandstone surrounding the warmly-lit pool. A few guests dipped their feet into the pool, wine glasses in hand as they gossiped about other guests. Classical music thrummed lowly over the well-dressed crowd, setting the impression of an upper-class ball from the eighteenth century rather than a student-run party in the twenty-first century. There was even an outdoor bar for guests to help themselves to.

“Well, this is shaping up to be a wild night,” whispered Gabriel, making Sam snort. A couple of women frowned at him in distaste.

Gabriel peered into the dark sky and watched the stars twinkle above them. If nothing else, at least the area wasn’t so bright with light pollution that he could actually see the stars.

He startled when Sam placed a gentle hand on his back and led him towards a couple of cushioned chairs. They sat and watched the other guests as they ate, a comfortable silence falling between them. 

“Thanks for today, Sam,” said Gabriel after a while. “You didn’t have to bring me along, nor did you have to go shopping for me. I do appreciate it.”

Sam turned to him, a ridiculously tiny bruschetta thing between his finger and thumb.

“I’m not going to make you go hungry just because I’ve been invited to a party,” shrugged Sam. “Besides, I actually enjoyed myself today. It’s nice talking to someone who has a mental breakdown at paying two hundred dollars for a jacket,” he teased.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t have spent so much on me. I’ll never be able to pay you back.”

The humour faded from Sam’s eyes and he dropped his gaze to his plate, prodding at a gooey puddle of grey stuff with a slice of baguette.

“I don’t expect you to pay me back. Your reactions were enough.”

Gabriel tilted his head in confusion as Sam pushed the grey stuff around his plate like a moody toddler who wanted chocolate.

“I can’t remember the last time someone genuinely thanked me for buying them a gift,” sighed Sam. “My friends expect me to pay extortionate prices for them, so watching you have a heart attack over a few hundred dollars’ worth of clothes was kind of… uplifting. You appreciate everything anyone does for you, no matter how insignificant and I… I wish I had more friends like you. I can actually talk to you without fear of getting laughed or sneered at. You don’t even condescend me when I don’t know something and other than my brother… I’ve never had that.”

Sam finally looked up, a little shyly, and Gabriel felt a slow grin blossoming over his face.

“Thanks for coming with me, Gabriel,” Sam said softly. “I do enjoy your company even if I’m not very good at showing it.”

Gabriel found himself believing the younger man. His heart did something strange.

“You look hot in that jacket by the way,” winked Sam, making Gabriel almost choke on an olive. “And I believe Kali over there agrees with me.”

Gabriel blinked and turned around to find an enticing woman of Indian descent glancing over his body with the look of a lioness eying up her prey. She wore a long, sparkly cherry dress and her neck, wrists and fingers were adorned with silver and jewels. Her make-up was smoky and elegant and she smiled at Gabriel through half-lidded eyes.

A shiver raced through Gabriel’s spine. He’d never had anyone _lust_ after him before.

“Talk to her,” encouraged Sam after a few moments, pressing a tumbler of brandy into Gabriel’s hand. The older man hadn’t even noticed him go to the bar.

Gabriel took a sip of brandy, hoping it would give him some sense of courage, before he stood and wandered over to Kali with a charming smile. He was a bit of a flirt at heart and tonight he was feeling confident. She watched him predatorily as he leaned against the empty seat beside her. 

“Can I get the most beautiful woman at this party a drink?” He asked.

Kali arched a perfect eyebrow. “Cute _and_ a gentleman. Today must be my lucky day.” She gestured to her half-full wine glass. “I’m alright for the moment, thank you. Why don’t you take a seat?”

Gabriel grinned and sat beside her. “Gabriel,” he introduced, offering his hand.

A smirk pulled at Kali’s lips. “Kali,” she replied, taking his hand and brushing her thumb over his knuckles suggestively. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you one of Raph’s friends?”

Gabriel shook his head as he drew his hand back. “Sam’s actually. I don’t really know Raphael.”

Kali smirked coyly. “He doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

Gabriel grimaced. Whoops. “…You noticed that, huh?”

Kali chuckled. “Everyone noticed you putting him in his place earlier. I say congratulations. That man needs his ego deflating.”

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. “If you don’t like Raphael, then why are you here?” He asked curiously. “Did you come with someone else?” Was he hitting on someone else’s girlfriend?

Kali smiled amusedly. “You _are_ new. You don’t have to like someone to go to their parties. Even though we pretend to be friends, I know Raphael invites me because I have money and he knows I accept because he has money. It’s how upper-class society functions. We are the people the lower classes aspire to be, the people they look up to. We throw parties like this, mingle with people of the same social standing and gossip about those we don’t like. There are few people here who are truly friends.” Her gaze roamed over Gabriel’s figure. “But there are many up for a bit of fun.”

Gabriel frowned. He couldn’t imagine a life of pretending to like people then pulling them to pieces the second they were out of earshot. And he certainly couldn’t imagine sleeping with the same people he’d pulled apart, or whom had pulled him apart.

Did people pretend to be Sam’s friend, then gossip about him behind his back? He’d never heard Sam gossip about any of his friends. He’d never heard the younger man personally attack anyone when they couldn’t hear him.

Suddenly, Gabriel didn’t feel like trying his luck with Kali. What if she spread rumours about him? What if she made fun of his body? What if she spread lies about things he’d done with her in the bedroom? 

He subtly flicked his gaze to Sam and found Ruby chatting to him. He frowned when she held out her hand and Sam hesitated before sighing and passing over some money. Then she kissed his cheek and danced away, into the arms of Azazel, who claimed her mouth hotly in full view of Sam. Sam grimaced and returned to pushing food around his plate.

Gabriel scowled. Why was Sam even with that woman?

Kali stroked a finger over his thigh and Gabriel startled, leaning away from her slightly.

“If I told you my ex was watching us right now, would you kiss me?” Kali purred, fingers trailing further up Gabriel’s thigh and the blonde glanced across the pool to where Kali was gesturing to, finally noticing the dark-skinned man watching them with clenched fists and a thick scowl. 

Gabriel opened his mouth to protest but found his words cut off by a pair of plump, insistent lips crashing into his.

He quickly recoiled, feeling dirty and wrong, but when he tried to rebuff her, she grabbed his collar and pulled him in for another messy kiss, her tongue slipping between his parted lips to lap inside his mouth hungrily. 

He shoved her away none too gently and stood, ignoring her shocked and slightly put-out expression.

“You’re using me to make your ex jealous,” he accused with a hard scowl. He was all for some fun between the sheets, but he wasn’t a pawn in someone’s twisted game of jealousy and he wasn’t fond of sleeping with someone and finding out they’d spread rumours about him the next morning. His previous bed partners may not have been lust-driven or attracted to him, but they at least liked his company.

He wanted to return to Sam.

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean I won’t sleep with you,” frowned Kali. “Just because I’m trying to get him back, it doesn’t mean I can’t please you too.”

“If you want him back so desperately, then why don’t you just talk things out with him?” Sighed Gabriel. “Why are you throwing yourself at me?”

Kali snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not throwing myself at anyone. If you don’t know how to please a woman, don’t pretend you have better morals than the rest of us. You should be flattered I even gave someone like you a second glance. Have fun with your fist tonight, loser.”

Gabriel scowled. He didn’t like this woman. He didn’t like anyone who was crude and vulgar and thought far too highly of themselves. 

“I was just trying to help,” he grumbled before turning away and making his way towards Sam.

Suddenly, Gabriel yelped as cold liquid tumbled over his head, cascading down his shirt and trousers and soaking into the material. He shouted in alarm when people grabbed at his arms, holding him in place as something wet and slimy was thrown down his shirt and into his pants.

The surrounding guests began to laugh and cheer as his captors released him and Gabriel looked down at himself in horror, the pungent smell of beer and caviar swirling around his nostrils. He was drenched and he could feel the fish eggs squelching and popping against his skin.

“That’s better,” crowed Raphael with a nasty smirk. “Now he looks like his old self again.”

Kali stood with a cruel sneer and turned to address the rest of the party. “This freak thought I’d actually sleep with him!” She scoffed. “He was practically begging me!”

Everyone laughed harder as Gabriel’s cheeks flamed red.

“Remember when he asked Sam out last Christmas?” Smirked Bela. “Apparently, he’s too stupid to understand that pouring milk over someone’s head is a sign of disinterest. Maybe fish eggs will do the trick!”

“What a dumbass,” laughed Ruby. “Why don’t you try asking out someone you actually have a chance with? After all, there are plenty of alcoholic bums on the streets.”

People laughed louder and Gabriel felt tears prickle at his eyes. He wanted the ground to swallow him whole. Why had he agreed to come here?

…Had Sam been in on this?

He clenched his fists in hurt and fury and tried to run towards the door to the kitchen, but found his path blocked by Raphael.

“Stay,” hummed Raphael as a few muscular men closed in on Gabriel, smirks lighting their faces. One of them threw their wine at Gabriel, staining his skin and clothes red.

“Let me go!” Snarled Gabriel as the men grabbed him and began hauling him back towards the pool, clearly aiming to throw him in. “Let go!” He spat again, kicking out fiercely. 

Still they continued to drag him towards the pool.

“We’re just getting started, mongrel,” chuckled Raphael. “How long can you hold your breath for?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened and he fought harder, kicking one of the men in the stomach and another in the groin. They refused to release him.

“Hey! Let him go!” Snapped Sam as he marched over and Gabriel glanced over to find the younger man shoving at one of his captors, towering over them until they backed off.

“I said let go of him!” Snarled Sam, pushing another captor away until he released Gabriel’s arm. The other men retreated slightly, frowning at Sam in confusion.

“What is wrong with you?” Sam hissed at Raphael, making the older man straighten in shock. “Are you trying to drown him? It wasn’t enough that you humiliated him, you had to threaten to kill him too? Are you deranged?”

Raphael narrowed his eyes. “Are you defending him? What happened to not caring about filth like him? You were all too happy to put him in his place a few months ago. What’s changed?”

“You’re sick,” spat Sam. “How can you treat another human like that and then have the audacity to question _my_ morals? You should be ashamed of yourself.” He looked over the rest of the party in pure disgust and anger. “All of you should.”

Gabriel startled when Sam took off his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders to keep him from shivering. Then he carefully placed a hand on Gabriel’s back and guided him towards the house, practically growling at anyone who stepped in his way.

“Fine,” snarled Raphael. “Suck up to that mutt. You’re obviously screwing it.”

People began to snicker again and Sam bristled, but he didn’t stop as he led Gabriel through the house and towards the main entrance. 

Gabriel made sure to smear some caviar over the ornate wallpaper before they left. He was petty like that.

He let Sam help him into the car and was surprised when the younger man didn’t complain about beer and caviar staining his seats and stinking out the interior. In fact, Sam looked livid as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“I’ll take you home,” Sam grated out, looking like he wanted to punch something.

Gabriel stared at his soaked lap and tried not to shake. He was frozen.

“…Did you know?” He asked softly after a few minutes.

Sam tensed. “If I had, I would never have taken you there.”

Gabriel relaxed a little. 

“I’m so sorry,” whispered Sam. “I can’t believe they did that to you. No one deserves that.” He glanced at Gabriel in concern as the older man wrapped his arms around himself embarrassedly. 

Wordlessly, Sam turned the heating up to full.

Gabriel sighed and leaned his head against the window. His hair dripped beer over his face and he wanted to cry but he wouldn’t, not in front of Sam.

“Thanks for standing up for me,” Gabriel murmured and Sam’s face crumpled for a moment before anger flashed behind his eyes once more.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me. Last Christmas I threw milk over you.”

“And today you bought me a stunning leather jacket,” pointed out Gabriel before frowning. “That’s now ruined,” he sighed.

Sam watched sadly as Gabriel ran his fingers over the sodden, stained leather.

“The one day I look nice,” murmured Gabriel mournfully before closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the window. At least he wasn’t frozen anymore. 

An hour later they arrived at Gabriel’s apartment. Gabriel was reluctant to let Sam see the outside of the building and had assured him he could walk to the door, but Sam had refused, arguing that Gabriel would get cold and he would much rather take Gabriel to his door, where he knew he had safely entered the apartment. Gabriel protested vehemently, but Sam shook his head and, too tired to fight, Gabriel admitted defeat.

Sam turned his nose up a little at the exterior of the building and Gabriel winced at the cracked windows and shabby paintwork. The street didn’t exactly look crime free either (mostly because it wasn’t) and Gabriel sighed at the familiar smell of cannabis drifting from the nearby alley.

Gabriel’s socks squelched as he trudged up to the apartment block and opened the door. The hallway was filthy and a huge rat scurried under a broken floorboard when Gabriel and Sam entered. Sam looked around warily and shuddered at the grime.

They ventured up the stairs to the second floor (the elevator had been broken for months) and Gabriel braced himself when he opened his apartment door.

He winced at Sam’s gasp and tried to ignore the shame in his gut as he shuffled into his bare apartment.

Sam followed him inside, gaze travelling from the sleeping bag on the floor, to the school bag beside it and into the kitchen where the broken fridge lay unplugged and multiple holes littered the walls where cupboards and an oven had been removed.

Gabriel poked at the light switch and frowned when nothing happened. He prodded at it a few more times and upon realising a fuse must have blown somewhere, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the wall.

Somewhere beside him, a rat squeaked.

Tears trickled down Gabriel’s face and he wasn’t strong enough to stop them. His shoulders began to shake with his silent sobs and he turned and slid down the wall, hiding his face behind his arms.

Why was everything so difficult for him? Why did his family hate him? Why was he destined to be humiliated by students and teachers for the rest of his life? What had he done to deserve any of this?

He startled when he was pulled into someone’s warm chest, their arms slipping around him silently, comfortingly.

Sam shifted until Gabriel was perched in his lap and the older man broke down, sobbing into his chest and clutching at Sam as though his life depended on it. Sam hesitated awkwardly for a moment before holding him close and petting his back and hair wordlessly until his crying quieted and he was sniffling softly into Sam’s chest.

“You’re sleeping at my suite tonight,” whispered Sam against his hair. “Grab some clothes and anything else you want for tomorrow. You can take a shower at mine if you wish.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I can’t ask you to- ”

“You’re not sleeping here, Gabriel. Especially not alone,” murmured Sam and Gabriel’s heart warmed at the concern in his tone. “Now grab your stuff and let’s get out of here.”

Gabriel nodded and slowly untangled himself from Sam. He shoved some worn, hole-ridden clothes in a bag and snatched up his toothbrush, toothpaste and hairbrush before shuffling back over to Sam, who quickly ushered him out of the building and back into the car.

They arrived at the Winchester suite a little while later and Sam herded Gabriel into the bathroom, offering him a huge, warm fluffy towel as he entered. Dean took one look at Gabriel’s appearance and Sam’s determined expression and offered the older man some of his pyjamas, which Gabriel accepted gratefully.

Once he had finished in the shower, Gabriel trudged downstairs to find Sam had set out cushions and blankets on the sofa, hot chocolates on the coffee table and an old, cheesy horror flick on the TV.

Gabriel felt his chest stir again and he smiled as he trotted over in the slightly-too-large but very comfortable PJs and Sam shot him a dimpled smile as the shorter man joined him on the couch.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow as Dean sat on the smaller couch, stretching out and smiling at Gabriel in a way that said Sam had told him everything. Gabriel glanced between both Winchesters and pulled the blanket a little higher as he cuddled into Sam’s side unashamedly. 

Sam threw an arm around him and held him close as they watched the movie and it wasn’t long before Gabriel drifted off into a peaceful sleep on his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Dean wandered downstairs the next morning to find Sam and Gabriel in exactly the same position he’d left them in the previous evening. He smiled to himself and decided to leave them both to sleep a little longer as he prepared breakfast.

Sam was stretched over the couch, Gabriel draped across his chest and the pair were cocconed in blankets and surrounded by cushions. One of Sam’s arms was strewn protectively over Gabriel’s back and Gabriel wore a small smile as he slept, warm and comfortable in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

They awoke slowly to the enticing smell of bacon and eggs and they looked at one another in confusion before their cheeks reddened and they drew apart. Sam rubbed the back of his neck, surprised to find he missed the warmth of Gabriel’s body against his and Gabriel quickly averted his gaze, backing into the far side of the couch.

“If you’re awake, you can come get your breakfast. I’m not serving it to you,” called Dean and Sam rolled his eyes before trudging into the kitchen, Gabriel close behind, a little uncertain but hopeful that Dean hadn’t forgotten about him. He was delighted to find three plates on the counter.

They settled on the couch again with their breakfasts and Gabriel couldn’t help his moan at the first bite. 

“So much better than foie gras,” he groaned and Dean perked up proudly as Sam bit back a snicker.

A few minutes later, Gabriel glanced between both Winchesters. 

“Thanks for letting me stay over,” he said quietly.

Dean smiled almost sadly. “You’re welcome here any time.”

Sam nodded in agreement and Gabriel hid his touched expression behind a mouthful of bacon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sabriel-centric chapter to forward the plot! Sorry to the people who are reading for Destiel only!
> 
> Also, I'd like to say I don't have anything against anyone in any class (upper, middle, working etc.), I'm just using class difference as a method of advancing character development!


	10. Chapter 10

“…So, if you could all now plot the vectors on the grid on page four,” droned the professor.

Castiel felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he slid it out under the desk. A message notification popped up on his home screen, stating it was from Dean Winchester.

Cocking an eyebrow, he opened up the message.

_**Can we talk?** _

Castiel frowned. Dean was persistent. Either that or he couldn’t comprehend the words ‘not interested’. Subtly, so as not to alert his professor (whom had a strict policy against phones in class), Castiel typed out a response.

_About what exactly?_

_**About Friday**_ came the immediate reply.

Castiel sighed and scribbled the vectors in his workbook.

_There’s nothing to talk about_

There was a pause this time before Dean’s explanation came through.

_**I want to apologise. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I genuinely enjoy your company and I’d hate to think I’ve ruined my chances of ever speaking to you again. Can we please meet up? Today?** _

Castiel’s mouth drew downwards. He knew this was still part of Dean’s plot to get him into bed and he tried to convince himself he shouldn’t meet up with the man. However, his curiousness was strong and he wondered how Dean would explain away his actions on Friday night. They’d had a deep, meaningful talk and the younger man had quickly tried to deflect his emotions by hitting on Castiel in an inappropriate manner and Castiel wanted to see how he would talk himself out of it.

He refused to entertain the idea that he wanted to meet up with Dean again because some underdeveloped part of his brain had been intrigued by Dean’s touches that night.

He typed out a simple question.

_Where?_

_**The park @ 5:30?** _

Castiel checked his watch. His lecture ended at five. 

_See you there_

_**Thank you** _

Castiel frowned in surprise at that sincere response and quickly slipped his phone into his pocket once more when the professor glanced up at him.

He wondered what Dean would say.

 

* * *

 

“Hey uh… thanks for meeting me,” mumbled Dean as he sat by Castiel on the grass and it was probably the first time the older man had ever heard him unsure of himself.

“What do you want, Dean?” Asked Castiel bluntly.

Dean dropped his gaze. “To apologise,” he murmured. “The strip club wasn’t my best idea. I shouldn’t have taken you there when I knew you wouldn’t approve.”

Castiel glanced at Dean in disappointment. So that was how he was going to play it? Blame the venue? He wasn’t even going to address their talk and the events following it? He was taking the coward’s way out.

“I see,” said Castiel through pursed lips. “Well, if that is all, I’d like to get home. I have some lecture notes to write.”

As he made to stand, Dean stared at him, stunned.

“That’s it?” He asked incredulously. “I apologise and you barely even spare me a glance?”

Castiel huffed. “If you can’t put any effort or sincerity into an apology, why should I bother to listen to it?”

“You think I haven’t put any effort into this?” Asked Dean angrily. “I asked you here, didn’t I? Is that not enough effort for you?”

“Stop being so cowardly, Dean,” snorted Castiel as he stood and he took satisfaction in the way Dean bristled. “I didn’t walk out of that club because I didn’t approve of the venue.”

When Dean stared at him defiantly, Castiel shook his head and began to walk away.

A few seconds later, a hand caught his shoulder.

“Alright, I was an ass,” Dean grated out, making Castiel turn to face him. 

The younger man sighed and dropped his hand. “I don’t like feeling vulnerable and you kept making all these observations about me. I felt as though you’d opened me up and were prodding at my insides, making comments about how my brain works,” he scowled. “So I deflected, okay? I didn’t like feeling so open so I tried to change the situation by doing something I know I’m good at.”

Dean averted his gaze. “Except, apparently my usual tricks don’t work on you and I ended up making a fool of myself.” He glared at Castiel. “Happy now? Was that sincere enough? Did I put enough effort into that?”

Castiel regarded Dean carefully. It was clear by the curled fists and the stiff jaw that the other man was uncomfortable. Obviously, emotion didn’t come naturally to Dean. He’d hidden behind his reputation and his supposed charms for so long, it was difficult for him to open up to people and admit he had feelings too. He was so accustomed to people only wanting him for sexual gratification and he was so used to using other people for the same reasons, that he didn’t know how to talk to others or build a relationship that didn’t have sex as the end goal.

Castiel slowly returned to the grass, patting the spot next to him for a surprised Dean to take.

“Why did you feel vulnerable?” Asked Castiel quietly.

Dean immediately tensed. “You’re not my therapist,” he snapped.

Castiel watched him coolly.

“Why don’t you like talking about your feelings? They’re perfectly natural for any human with your history to have.”

“What do you mean ‘my history’?” Hissed Dean, clearly offended. “Where do you get off talking down to people like that?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. Was Dean being purposefully difficult?

“I’m not condescending you, Dean. I mean, given your relationship with your father as a child, it’s understandable you may have certain emotions you wish to discuss.”

“I have nothing I want to discuss,” Dean bit out.

Castiel turned away, unimpressed. He was getting tired of Dean’s defensive attitude. Maybe a different tactic was in order. He briefly wondered why he was bothering with Dean; it wasn’t as though he owed anything to him and he certainly wasn’t interested in becoming his bed warmer. Maybe he was just curious about the man and his habits. Maybe it was something else.

“Do you have friends, Dean?” He asked, without looking at the younger man. 

Dean blinked at the non-sequitur. “Of course I do,” he huffed.

“Any you haven’t slept with?”

Dean fell silent. 

Castiel kept his expression carefully neutral. “That doesn’t strike you as strange?”

There was a long pause before Dean finally spoke.

“Gabriel,” he said softly, all traces of previous anger vanishing.

Castiel raised an eyebrow in query and Dean sighed.

“Gabriel Milton. I haven’t slept with him.”

“He’s a friend?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “I… I wouldn’t say we’re best buddies, but he sleeps on my couch sometimes. He’s… he’s a good guy. Worked hard to get where he is.”

Castiel watched a guilty grimace flick over Dean’s face before it disappeared again.

“You care for this man?” Asked Castiel lightly. He’d never heard of Dean looking out for anyone other than his brother.

Another guilty wince. “Yeah,” Dean mumbled. “Yeah, I guess I do. He’s… he’s not in a good place at the moment. Doesn’t really have much. Actually, he doesn’t have anything, not even a bed. People… people make fun of him a lot and his family disowned him because he doesn’t only like girls. He’s strong but he… sometimes I think he…” Dean sighed and dropped his gaze. “He has no one. He deserves better.”

Castiel could tell there was something else; another story there, but he didn’t want to push. Dean was finally opening up to him and he didn’t want to spook the other man. Besides, he was curious; why would Dean care for a man who had nothing? Why would he offer him a place to stay? Dean had never struck him as the type to care about those in need; had he been wrong? Was Dean not as selfish and egotistical as he’d first thought?

“Do you want to help him?”

Dean hesitated, thoughtful for a few moments before he nodded his head slowly. “I think so. He comes around every night. Loves cooking. He makes Sam and me dinner and likes bossing us around the kitchen. He’s… funny. Big personality. It’s kinda nice having him around so often,” admitted Dean softly, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.

Castiel watched Dean’s expression in silence. He hadn’t expected Dean to care for someone who wasn’t his brother. He was accustomed to the man only looking out for himself and not caring how he hurt other people in the process. He’d always assumed Dean was as shallow as he made out to be, but as time went on, Castiel was beginning to realise that wasn’t the case.

“Are you going somewhere with this?” Asked Dean suddenly, a frown creasing his brow.

Castiel cocked an eyebrow at him. “Yes. You only have one friend that you haven’t slept with and some of your closest ‘friends’ aren’t exactly savoury people.”

Dean stiffened. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying you can be better than this.”

The defiance and irritation drained from Dean’s features and he stared at Castiel in surprise.

“…Huh?”

Castiel licked his lips and clasped his hands over his lap. It took him a few moments to convince himself to look at Dean as he spoke.

“My first judgement about your character was wrong. I apologise for that. You’re not who I thought you were. Or at least… I don’t think you are.” He paused to collect his thoughts, briefly dropping his gaze before returning it to Dean’s face with as sincere an expression as he could muster. “I believe you could be… more than the man you paint yourself as.”

“What’s that supposed to- ”

“Hear me out, Dean. You’re good-looking and wealthy and everyone knows that. But you’re also intelligent and apparently… caring. Even if you don’t often show it. You can be thoughtful when you set your mind to it and sometimes I wonder if this… reputation you’ve built is a façade to protect yourself. You clearly have difficulties discussing your emotions and I wonder if you sleep with everyone you meet because it stops you from developing a more meaningful relationship with anyone. 

“If everyone uses you for sex, you don’t have to discuss your feelings and you can keep pretending that you’re this sex god that doesn’t have any troubles and everyone else will fall for it. You don’t have to think about your problems and everyone pays attention to you because of this reputation you’ve hand-crafted. 

“But the thing is, when you get older and everyone around you starts to grow up, that’s all you’ll have; a reputation. From years gone by. In ten… fifteen years, do you really think people will still want to play this game with you? Do you think people will be begging to sleep with you once they’re married or have steady jobs and families? Do you think anyone will care about what happens to you? You’ll just be a memory; some hot guy they slept with in college. To some, like Balthazar, you’ll be a mistake; someone who never gets mentioned again because you’re not worth mentioning. You won’t mean anything to anyone. Is that what you want?”

Dean was tense, eyes hard and cold.

“I’ll have my brother,” he growled. “Who cares what you think anyway? You don’t mean anything to me! Nobody cares about anybody in this world! Do you really think your friends are gonna keep in contact with you once college is over? They don’t give a damn about you!”

“Balthazar moved here from Florida three weeks after I came to this university,” said Castiel calmly.

Dean froze, then deflated. “So, what?” He grumbled. “I have my brother and that’s all I need.”

“And when he moves out? When he gets married or decides to take a job that’s half-way across the country? What happens to you when your brother gets his own life?”

Dean remained silent, dropping his gaze and wincing slightly.

Castiel sighed. “Why are you so averse to letting people close?”

For a long minute, it looked as though Dean would get up and march off, but then he closed his eyes and turned away.

“Dad didn’t pay a scrap of attention to me, yet I was always so needy. He didn’t need everyone paying constant attention to him, but I did everything I could to make him notice me, even when I knew it would get me into trouble. I screwed up my grades in school and didn’t even try to fix them. I didn’t go into the military like Dad wanted me to. I’m attracted to guys even though Dad always told me it was wrong. I did everything I could to piss him off. Is it any wonder he didn’t care about me?”

Dean finally turned to Castiel. “Now, if my own father didn’t care about me, why should anyone else? If I wasn’t supposed to talk about my feelings with him, why on Earth would I discuss them with anybody else?”

Castiel’s gaze widened for a second before Dean looked away again with a huff.

“Your father was a cruel man and you didn’t deserve all that he put you through,” said Castiel firmly. “I wish you could see that because you’re nothing like him and that is an entirely good thing.”

Dean blinked in surprise and Castiel ploughed on. “Don’t be the man your father wanted you to be and don’t let him influence the person you are. I’ve seen how thoughtful and considerate you can be, how caring you are when no one is around. You shouldn’t hide it. You shouldn’t be ashamed of such wonderful qualities. You could be a good man, a great man; far better than your father ever was and will be… but you have to stop using people. You have to stop flashing your money and hurting people to get what you want. If you could just think about how your actions affect other people…” Castiel gazed at Dean determinedly.

“I know you can be a better man than you think you are.”

Dean stared at him for a long time, a charged silence settling between them as pained green eyes met sincere blue. 

After what felt like hours, Dean glanced at his lap.

“Do you really mean that?”

His voice was so soft, so hurt that Castiel wouldn’t have believed Dean had said it if he hadn’t watched the man’s lips move.

“I do,” Castiel replied simply.

Dean fell quiet once more.

“You’re not like the others,” Dean whispered.

Castiel wasn’t sure what he meant, but he nodded anyway and flicked his gaze to the rest of the park. The Labrador from last week had returned.

“If I stop sleeping around so much and start thinking more about others, will you… will you be- ” He suddenly cut himself off and started again. “Would that make you happy?”

Castiel wondered how he’d originally planned to end the sentence.

He turned to Dean with a raised eyebrow. “…I suppose. However, this is more about showing you that it’s okay to experience emotions.”

“Noted,” Dean murmured before looking up at Castiel hopefully. “But if I do all that, it’ll make you happy?”

Castiel’s lips turned downwards. Dean wasn’t getting it.

“Yes,” he finally said, because he had a feeling explaining things would be futile. It wasn’t as if Dean would change anyway. He would probably still keep plotting ways of coaxing Castiel into bed with him.

Dean brightened and nodded, looking far more chipper than he had a minute ago.

“Hey, can I take you to dinner?” He asked Castiel with a lopsided grin.

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed.

 

* * *

 

“Order up for table seven,” called Gabriel before ducking back towards the oven and beginning the next ticket. Why did so many people want pizza this afternoon?

Jo scuttled over to the serving window. She grabbed the fourteen-inch vegetable pizza and shot Gabriel a sympathetic look. 

“You doing okay?”

Gabriel kept his voice carefully calm as he replied. “My shift ends in an hour and I have a practical session in two. I smell like sweat and pepperoni and I won’t have time to change before I go to class. I also forgot my piping bag and we’re making macarons, so Asmodeus isn’t going to be happy with me. Again. Other than that, I’m doing great.”

Jo winced. “Maybe you can borrow one?”

“Maybe I’ll win the lottery too.”

Jo frowned. “Alright. I was only trying to help.”

Gabriel sagged as he began plastering a ten-inch dough base with tomato paste.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just… frustrated.”

Jo’s expression turned sympathetic once more. “Keep your head up. You’ll get there. Once college is over, you’ll be a fully-fledged chef with a ton of experience under your belt to make you stand out.”

Gabriel quirked a small smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Jo nodded and shuffled away, leaving Gabriel to slave over the dough once more. 

_The Roadhouse_ was a small, family-run café with few staff members and a lot of business. Afternoons were always incredibly busy, regardless of the day and weekend evenings were a nightmare when Gabriel was the only chef in the kitchen (which happened more often than the owner, Ellen, liked).

“Ash, pour me a coke, would ya?” Called Gabriel, panting a little from the heat of the ovens.

As he received his drink, another ticket came through, asking for a carbonara and yet another pizza.

Gabriel groaned and pressed his arm to his forehead, grimacing at the sweat collecting there. He threw his current pizza in the oven and began work on the next one, changing his gloves in between.

After an hour of hard labour, where he had eyed the freezer up at least four times and considered just sitting in it until his shift was over, Gabriel finally stepped out of the kitchen looking like a sweaty tomato. 

He chugged a litre of water and leaned against the bar for a minute, nodding towards Benny as the other chef donned his white hat. 

“You look like you could do with a ten-hour nap rather than a two-hour class,” Benny chuckled in that smooth southern drawl of his.

Gabriel chuckled but found himself too exhausted to reply. Benny’s face twisted into something apologetic before he patted Gabriel’s shoulder and slid into the kitchen.

Gabriel yanked his hat off and began pulling his jacket off when a familiar face appeared at the bar. He blinked in surprise.

“Sam?”

From the corner of his eye, he watched Jo stiffen and even Ash perked up a little, observing Sam warily. They had never met the youngest Winchester, but they had certainly heard Gabriel’s tales of him.

Oblivious, Sam grinned and stepped closer, but paused at Gabriel’s appearance.

Gabriel looked down at himself and grimaced. There was tomato sauce splashed over his jacket and he probably smelled pretty funky. His face and hair were shiny with sweat and he looked like he’d just run a marathon.

Gabriel pushed his hair off his forehead self-consciously. “What are you doing here, kiddo?”

Sam stared at him, stunned. “I… um… I only had half a day of lectures so I thought I’d stop by. You said you worked here but I’ve never visited. I remembered you said you had a shift today so I thought I’d say… hello.” He suddenly fished inside his bag for something. 

“I thought I’d bring you a snack to get you through Asmodeus’ class.” He held out a packet of chocolate chip cookies.

Gabriel glanced at the offering in surprise before gingerly taking them.

“…Thanks, Sam.” _How thoughtful._

Sam smiled again, standing a little straighter. “Do you… do you want a ride to class?” He asked and Gabriel could have kissed him.

“Please,” he said instead, a little desperately. He wasn’t sure he could make that twenty-five-minute walk up to the kitchens.

“When does your class start?” Asked Sam curiously.

Gabriel checked his watch. “In about an hour.”

Sam nodded, pleased. “You can stick around for a drink then?”

Gabriel felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Sure.”

Sam led him towards a vacant table and Gabriel shook his head at Jo’s cocked eyebrow and subtle gesture towards a nearby knife. He adored the feisty waitress, but sometimes she was a little too eager to stab people she didn’t like.

“You got everything you need for class?” Asked Sam as they took their seats and Gabriel paused, deliberating over whether he should reveal his forgotten piping bag. After a moment, he sat down and glanced at Sam sheepishly.

“Nearly everything. Forgot my piping bag. I’m hoping I can sneak a spare one out of the cupboard before Asmodeus notices.” Sam probably thought he was so careless and stupid.

As he feared, Sam frowned, his nose wrinkling.

“Your professor’s a dick,” he huffed. “Would he really be angry at you for forgetting a piping bag?”

Pleasantly surprised, Gabriel straightened. “Definitely. He threw me out for not having a hair net so I doubt he’ll let me borrow a piping bag considering how difficult it is to clean.”

Sam shook his head. “And I thought my professors were strict.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Want me to drive you back to your apartment so you can grab it?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened and he hesitated, waiting for the punchline. This had to be some sort of prank, right? His luck was never this good and the source of such luck was never Sam. Usually, people being this nice to him led to humiliation and ridiculing or something being dumped over his head.

Then again, Sam _had_ defended him at the party.

 _And_ he’d bought him new clothes.

 _And_ he’d let him sleep on his couch when Gabriel had a mental breakdown.

…Maybe… maybe Sam was being genuine?

“…It wouldn’t be too much trouble?” Gabriel asked cautiously.

Sam shook his head again. “Not at all. Come on, I’ll take you now so you have time to get to class.”

Gabriel startled when Sam stood and gestured for him to follow. He glanced at the empty table and felt a little guilty that he’d prevented Sam from having lunch.

“Look, you don’t need to. Why don’t you have some lunch and I’ll walk up to campus- ”

“Gabe, it’s fine,” chuckled Sam as he unlocked the Lamborghini. “Get in.”

Gabriel blinked at the shortened name and slid into the car in silence. He still wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t a prank. Good things just didn’t happen to people like him.

“You still coming over tonight?” Asked Sam casually, but there was a smile on his lips and it widened when he briefly glanced at Gabriel, before returning his gaze to the road.

Gabriel stared at him, his chest suddenly light. Sam’s eyes glistened when he smiled.

“Um… sure. If you’re okay with that. Is there anything you'd like for dinner?”

Sam hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll have a think about it. Is there anything you haven’t taught me yet?”

Gabriel felt a smirk twitching his lips. “Plenty, kiddo.”

Sam grinned brightly. “Something new then. Something we can rope Dean into helping us with.”

Gabriel chuckled and relaxed into the seat. “I have a few ideas.” He rather enjoyed having both Winchesters bustling around the kitchen with him. Sometimes he imagined that’s what his family would have been like if they’d accepted his career choice. He wished that was what his family had been like.

“Awesome,” hummed Sam. He was quiet for a few minutes before clearing his throat almost shyly.

“You can stay over again, if you’d like,” he offered softly. “I understand if you’d prefer me to take you home, but… the offer’s there if you want it.”

A tiny smile crawled onto Gabriel’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Cas fighting a losing battle with Dean...?


	11. Chapter 11

Sam hummed tunelessly as he re-entered the suite and Dean glanced up from his textbook.

“Gabriel get into work on time?” He asked and Sam nodded, hanging up his jacket and wandering over to have a glimpse at what Dean was working on. He lifted an eyebrow at the anatomical drawing of the nervous system in the leg, which Dean had sketched on a sheet of paper and was beginning to label.

“…You’re _studying?_ ” He asked incredulously.

Dean shrugged defensively. “Got a mock test coming up.”

Sam crossed his arms. “And since when have you ever cared about those?”

Dean shrugged again. “Got nothing else to do.” He returned to his diagram. “Gabriel slept over again last night.”

Sam straightened. “Yeah. So?”

“You stayed with him again.”

Sam pursed his lips. “It’s not like that. We were watching a movie.”

“I know. I watched it with you. When it was over, I asked if you were coming to bed and you said you were going to stay downstairs for a little longer.” Dean’s lips curved up into a smirk. “You fell asleep beside him again.”

Sam’s cheeks reddened and he looked away. “Shut up. It doesn’t mean anything. I was tired and he was… a convenient pillow.”

“What happened to him being eight years older than you? Thought you didn’t like him. He’s an _‘immature, annoying dumb-ass,’_ right?” Dean teased.

Sam suddenly stiffened. “Screw you,” he hissed with enough venom to make Dean recoil in shock.

“…Sam- ”

“No. You know what? Have fun screwing Castiel. Tell me when he actually spares you a glance.” And with that, Sam marched upstairs to his room and slammed the door behind him.

Dean stared after him, stunned. _What was that all about?_

He slowly returned his attention to his diagram. Studying was hard. He’d never concentrated like this before but after his talk with Castiel yesterday, he’d suddenly felt an urge to do something productive. Castiel believed he could be a better man than he was if only he stopped hiding behind his reputation, so maybe it was time to drop the act and become someone worth believing in.

He wasn’t stupid, or at least he didn’t think he was, and maybe he could do with getting a few extra credits to raise his grades. He’d barely passed his engineering degree, mostly because he’d slacked off and hadn’t seen his grades as important, but maybe it would be nice to have the certificate that said he’d actually learned something after three years of exams. 

And all that stuff Castiel had said about not sleeping around so much and respecting others? Dean was actually going to try that because Castiel had seemed sincere when he spoke about Dean becoming a better man than he was currently. It was the first time anyone had told him they believed he had the capacity to be… _more_ than he was. It was the first time anyone had cared about him enough to want him to become better. 

Usually people just said things he liked to hear so he’d sleep with them and in the past, he’d been all for it. Now though, he wanted Castiel to be… proud of him. 

No one had ever been proud of him before. 

Castiel’s words about growing older and being alone and not meaning anything to anyone had really hit home. The guy was right; eventually, even Sam would grow up and leave him for his own life and what would Dean have then? He needed to do something to prevent that from happening. 

If he could impress Castiel, show him he was worth something and that he deserved to be cared about, then maybe other people would care about him too, in exactly the same way that his dad didn’t.

Maybe he could mean something to someone for once.

But he had a long way to go and since Castiel was currently the only one who had a glimmer of hope for him, he needed to prove himself to the older man. He needed to show Castiel that he hadn’t made a mistake by putting his faith in him.

He needed to prove that he could care about other people in the same way he wanted them to care about him.

 

* * *

 

“Are you… working?” Asked Alastair, nose wrinkled in a combination of disgust and confusion. Lilith and Abaddon flanked him, frowning down at Dean’s notes where they were scattered all over their usual lunch table. 

Dean startled and glanced up at them before an excited grin lit his face. He began to stack his notes into a neat pile beside his laptop before angling the screen towards his friends.

“Guys, you have got to see this. The human body is so weird! Look at this.”

The trio recoiled as a picture of a leg with a gaping wound appeared on the screen. The wound looked old and there was bone visible.

“That’s gross,” gagged Abaddon. “You don’t go around showing that to people!”

Dean shook his head, still looking far too enthusiastic. “That piece of bone? That’s called ‘sequestrum’. It’s what happens when you get a fracture and a chunk of bone is sliced off the original piece. Basically, the body tries to force the broken piece of bone out of itself and that’s why the wound isn’t closing; the sequestrum is slowly being forced out of the body because it’s not serving a purpose anymore. Once it’s gone, the body can focus on repairing the old bone and healing the skin.” Dean slid the laptop back to him. “I never realised our bodies could do stuff like that. That’s pretty awesome. Maybe I should start paying more attention in lectures.”

His friends stared at him as though he’d just announced he was pregnant.

“…Are you… feeling alright?” Asked Lilith carefully.

Dean grinned. “Of course. Why?”

“Why would you suddenly start paying attention in lectures when you skip sixty percent of them anyway?” Asked Alastair bluntly. “Thought you did the course for the hot cheerleader and jock threesomes?”

Dean felt his brows crease downwards. “…It’s not the only reason I took it,” he protested weakly. “I am interested in the stuff we learn.”

Lilith chuckled as she took the seat beside him. “Since when?” She hummed as she closed Dean’s laptop with a single finger.

Dean frowned at his laptop. “I like the anatomy classes,” he murmured. “They’re interesting.”

Lilith smirked and leaned into Dean’s side. She placed elegant fingers over his thigh and nipped his jaw playfully, making him jump.

“What kind of anatomy do you find interesting, Dean?” She purred into his ear, fingers trailing to his crotch. “Anything Bart and I could help you with tonight?”

Ordinarily, Dean would have flirted back immediately. He would have been eager to jump into bed that night with Lilith and Bartholomew; he’d always enjoyed their games. 

This time however, he needed to prove that he could change. He needed to prove that Castiel hadn’t made a mistake in believing he could be better.

He leaned away from Lilith with an apologetic glance.

“Ah… not tonight. I’ve got a test in a couple of days and I feel like I know nothing.” It was a shame; she was such a curvy blonde.

Lilith scowled and moved away from him in disbelief. “ _You’re_ turning down sex for books? Can you even read?”

 _Ouch._ That… actually hurt.

“Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good for,” Dean tried to joke, but he wondered if they caught his injured tone.

Lilith flicked her hair behind her ear. “If you say so,” she hummed disinterestedly. 

Dean scowled and tried not to acknowledge how worthless he suddenly felt.

“Bet he wouldn’t turn down sex with Castiel,” teased Alastair as he took the seat opposite Dean, Abaddon beside him, a smirk crawling over her face. “How’s your bet coming along anyway? Is he ass-up for you yet?” Alastair leered.

Dean shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. For some reason, he didn’t like them talking about Castiel like that, which was weird, because he’d never cared before.

“Uh… no. He’s… not interested.”

“I believe in your power to make straight boys beg for your dick,” snorted Alastair in amusement, Lilith and Abaddon giggling with him. “He’ll come around eventually. Sam had better get used to sucking off that fugly little paedophile of his. He’s got nearly four more years of it.”

The trio began to laugh, but Dean’s fists were clenched under the table. Gabriel didn’t deserve people speaking about him like that. He was a good, kind man and never did anyone any harm, yet the world seemed so intent on crushing him down. 

Still, he found himself unable to speak. If he defended Gabriel, he would alienate his own friends and he didn’t know Gabriel all that well, really. Besides, Gabriel wasn’t here to hear what they were saying about him, so it didn’t matter… right? If Dean just nodded his head but didn’t say anything himself about Gabriel, then that was okay because Gabriel wasn’t around to be offended by any of their words.

What Gabriel didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, surely?

He lowered his gaze and said nothing as he returned to his studying.

Unfortunately, his silence didn’t go unnoticed by Abaddon. 

“We’re only teasing, Dean,” she purred. “I’m sure Sam won’t be the one on his knees in that arrangement. Relax. We didn’t mean any offence.”

Dean quirked a brief, awkward smile before returning to his work. Why did he feel so... dirty?

Abaddon narrowed her eyes at him thoughtfully before turning her silent gaze to Alastair, who cocked a calculating eyebrow.

“You’re being oddly obtuse today, Dean,” he drawled. “Something on your mind?”

Dean shook his head. “Just concentrating on my lecture notes,” he lied. “I want to understand the origins and insertions of the muscles within the metacarpal region. They’re really complicated.”

Alastair crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly seeing through the lie.

“It’s lunch time, Dean. You can afford a break,” he hummed. “Now, what’s your next step with Castiel? What’s the plan? Have you invited him back to your suite yet? Maybe if it’s just you two alone, you could convince him to drop his pants for you.” Alastair smirked. “And if he says no, lock the doors until he changes his mind.”

Abaddon and Lilith began giggling again and Alastair winked at them in amusement.

However, Dean shifted uncomfortably and tried not to think about how much that suggestion sounded like rape. He hated when his friends insinuated stuff like that. Sometimes it was in the name of a joke, but other times things went too far, like dropping rohypnol in Castiel’s drink.

Dean scowled. His friends hadn’t seen anything wrong with him taking Castiel whilst he was unconscious. They hadn’t seen anything wrong with Castiel not having a choice in the matter.

“I think it’s going to be a little harder to win him over than _Netflix and Chill_ ,” huffed Dean, making his friends stare at him in confusion. They had expected him to chuckle along with them like he usually did, but for once, Dean was tired of agreeing with their sick jokes.

“…What’s your plan then?” Asked Lilith.

Dean stared at her coolly. “My plan is to finish this lecture and hopefully move onto ligaments and tendons within the next hour.”

Lilith snapped her mouth shut, recoiling in surprise at being rebuffed. Abaddon and Alastair’s eyes narrow once more, but they said nothing as they stood. 

“We’ll leave you to it,” said Abaddon smoothly, gesturing for Lilith and Alastair to follow her out of the room.

Dean watched them go and licked his lips nervously. He had a feeling he’d just made a very bad decision; one that was going to bite him in the ass later.

He shook his head and focused on his notes.

 

* * *

 

Dean’s lips tugged upwards as he watched Gabriel order Sam around the kitchen. The shorter man wasn’t doing anything ‘hands-on’ today, choosing to direct Sam instead and if he was quite honest, he would say Sam was enjoying himself.

“That’s not cumin, that’s cinnamon!” Laughed Gabriel as Sam was about to tip the small jar onto a teaspoon. 

Sam glanced at the jar with a light frown, then grimaced and carefully put the jar back on the rack before grabbing the correct ingredient.

“That would have been a unique curry,” grinned Gabriel and Sam smiled embarrassedly before returning to his blender.

“Okay, add the buttermilk and then grab a pan so you can add the oil and cloves,” ordered Gabriel. “Dean, fetch him some mint leaves.”

Dean startled at his name and turned to Gabriel, who winked at him playfully.

“Can’t have you standing around looking like a wet lettuce. Mint leaves, stat.”

Dean chuckled and traipsed into the kitchen, making a show of searching for the leaves as though every step was pure torture. Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Here your brother is slaving over a hot stove, cooking your dinner, and you can’t even make an effort to find a couple of leaves for him. Shame on you, Dean-o.”

“I should be studying for my upcoming test,” Dean teased and Sam shot him a strange look; the one that said he still couldn’t believe Dean was actually studying.

Gabriel shrugged. “I should be practicing for my practical exam next week, yet I’m here, teaching you two how Indian takeout doesn’t compare to a real, homecooked chicken in buttermilk curry.”

Sam paused. “You have an exam next week? A real one?” 

Gabriel nodded. “Part of my module. We’re given a scenario and we have to cook a three-course meal in that theme. So, my scenario is a Greek restaurant at lunch time. That means I have to create a starter, main course and dessert all with a Greek theme. I also have to match a Greek aperitif with the meal. The dishes can’t be too heavy or rich because it’s lunch time but they still have to be aesthetically pleasing.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you be practicing?” He turned away from the pan. “Seriously, your degree is more important than teaching me how to cook. I don’t mind skipping out on our sessions if you want to practice for your exam.”

Dean stared at his brother. Was Sam… concerned about Gabriel? He’d never seen his brother care about anyone apart from himself.

Gabriel shrugged awkwardly. “Nah… it’s fine. I’d rather be here. You finished chopping those cloves yet?”

Sam frowned, contemplating for a moment, before his eyes widened in realisation.

“You know… you can practice in our kitchen if you want. If you tell us the ingredients you need, Dean and I don’t mind buying them, right, Dean?”

Dean nodded silently and tried to conceal his shock at Sam’s offer. They all knew Gabriel couldn’t afford to buy the ingredients to practice for his exam and they all knew his own kitchen wasn’t functional enough to allow him to practice. However, Dean had never expected his brother to want to help Gabriel out because he’d never associated thoughtfulness and kindness as traits of Sam’s. To see his brother acting considerate of someone else’s needs was astounding.

And since when was Sam so subtle? Usually his brother was blunt and to-the-point and didn’t care how he hurt people with his words. Now he offering to help Gabriel without mentioning the state of his apartment or the fact that he had no money, so as not to shame the older man.

Gabriel glanced up at Sam hopefully. “…You’re really okay with that?” He straightened. “I can’t pay you back in money, but I can pay you back in other ways. I can clean your suite and tidy up and I can run errands for you guys if you want me to and I can- ”

“You don’t need to do anything for us,” interrupted Sam gently, an amused smile quirking his lips. “Just clear up after yourself in the kitchen and watch a movie with us in the evenings and we’ll consider things even, okay?”

Dean gaped at his brother as a bright smile overtook Gabriel’s features. 

“Sam… I can’t even begin to thank you…” Gabriel said softly.

Sam’s smile widened and Dean wondered if anyone had ever thanked his brother sincerely before.

“Then don’t,” murmured Sam. “Show me how to finish this curry instead.”

Dean watched, bewildered, as Gabriel crossed the kitchen to stand by Sam’s side. The pair shared a fond look before Gabriel quietly began his instructions again and Sam obediently followed them. Dean’s eyebrows were raised as Sam followed Gabriel’s orders without question, sometimes brushing against the older man when he had to grab an ingredient or utensil. Gabriel wasn’t shy in touching Sam either, particularly when he was showing the younger man how to stir efficiently, where he actually placed his hand around Sam’s on the spoon to smooth his motions.

Dean found the mint leaves quickly and placed them beside the pair, hurriedly retreating out of the kitchen and leaving them alone. He felt like an intruder in a private moment.

With one last glance at them both and their soft smiles as they chatted quietly to one another, Dean slunk upstairs and tried not to think about how two-faced he was for not standing up for Gabriel earlier that day.

 

* * *

 

Castiel had an hour before his next lecture. He should have been revising or at the very least making a start on the thick workbook he’d just been given, but instead he was staring at the lone man with his notes spread over one of the huge tables in the dining hall. Dean was frowning at his laptop, scribbling notes furiously in his book and pulling various faces whenever he didn’t understand something.

Castiel watched him for a few moments before his curiosity got the better of him and he found himself gliding towards Dean. 

“You’re studying?” Asked Castiel, keeping his voice neutral.

Dean startled and snapped his gaze up to Castiel before frowning at his work again.

“Believe it or not, I can actually do things that don’t involve my penis,” he huffed moodily whilst scribbling something out in his notes and correcting it.

Castiel blinked at the tone. Dean was flustered. Or maybe offended. Probably both.

Gracefully, he took the seat beside Dean and glanced at his laptop. There were a lot of muscles with very long, similar-sounding names.

“I don’t know the innervation for any of these,” groaned Dean, running a hand through his hair. “Some of them don’t even make sense. Why does the fibular nerve have two names and why is it called ‘fibular’ when it’s part of the sciatic nerve?”

Castiel stared at the screen blankly. He didn’t have a clue what any of those muscles where and he only vaguely recognised the names of the nerves.

Dean turned to him with a frown. “Wait, why are you here? Not that I’m complaining but don’t you have a lecture or something?”

Castiel shook his head. “I’ve got a free hour and I was curious as to why you looked like you were on the verge of a mental breakdown.” He glanced at the screen. “Now I understand.”

Dean sagged and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers and thumb.

“I’m going to fail this test tomorrow.”

Castiel was quiet for a few moments as he regarded Dean carefully. He’d never seen the younger man interested in college work before and it was throwing him off-kilter a little.

“…And… that bothers you?”

Castiel recoiled slightly at the withering glare Dean sent him.

“Y’know what? Yeah, it does. It bothers me. Because if I can’t even do one small test on the stuff we’ve learned so far, what chance have I got during my modular exams where passing them is the only way of graduating to the next year?” He scowled at his notes. “Everyone already thinks I’m stupid; I don’t need to solidify their opinions by being kicked off the course.”

Castiel stared at Dean. He’d never seen the younger man like this. He hadn’t realised Dean was so insecure about his intelligence. He wondered how many people had made comments about Dean’s studying if he was already this irritated. 

“Maybe it would help to have someone testing you?” Suggested Castiel, feeling a little sorry for the other man. “Talking through the questions may be more useful than staring at a screen and tearing your hair out.”

Dean tilted his head thoughtfully before glancing at Castiel. “…You wouldn’t mind helping me out?”

Castiel shrugged. “Hide your notes and pass me the laptop.”

Dean scrambled to do as asked and Castiel was surprised by his enthusiasm. Since when was Dean Winchester eager to work?

Castiel managed to compose himself as he began the PowerPoint, trying not to think about how focused and patient Dean looked staring at him like that. 

He cleared his throat. “What is the innervation, origin and insertion of the biceps femoris?”

 

* * *

 

He closed the laptop and handed it back to Dean silently, thinking over the past fifty minutes. 

“You’re not going to fail the test,” he said quietly.

Dean pulled a face. “I don’t understand innervations. I keep getting them wrong.”

Castiel glanced up at the younger man, an incredulous expression sweeping over his features.

“You only got three wrong. Out of twenty-nine.”

Dean frowned. “That’s over ten percent that I don’t know.”

Castiel stared at Dean in disbelief. “Ten percent of innervation. Not ten percent of the course.”

Dean shrugged. “I should know this.” He rifled through his notes and pulled out a hand-sketched diagram of the nervous system of the leg. “This is why people think I’m an idiot. I never know what I’m supposed to. I never study. The only thing anyone thinks I’m useful for is sex. I’m disorganised and I can’t even remember simple facts like the innervation of the _semimembranosus_.”

Castiel scowled. Was Dean flustered because someone had told him he was only useful for sex? 

“…These are hardly simple facts, Dean. And you recalled insertions and origins very well. I don’t understand why you believe you’re going to fail.”

Dean made a face and continued scouring his notes. “I could do better.”

Castiel leaned back in his seat and stared at Dean. He wasn’t accustomed to seeing Dean so determined to do well academically and he wasn't sure whether to be impressed or wary. He wasn't entirely certain what to make of the man's sudden swing in ambitions.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I wish you the best of luck in your test tomorrow. However, I must get to my lecture.”

Dean looked up and offered Castiel a warm smile. “Thanks, man. And thanks for helping me out. Have fun in your lecture.”

He dropped his eyes to his notes again and Castiel’s gaze lingered a little longer on the taller man before he shook his head and stood up.

Maybe Dean could change.

Or maybe it was just another plot to entice Castiel into bed with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Dean can change...? ;)


	12. Chapter 12

“Who’re you texting?” Chirped Gabriel as he ground the nuts for his baklava. It was a traditional Greek dessert that he planned on serving in his exam, but he kept getting the consistency wrong (not that Sam or Dean minded because they ate all his failed attempts and they still tasted delicious). 

Sam furrowed his brows as he leaned against the counter, gaze focused on his iPhone. 

“Ruby,” he grunted and Gabriel turned his nose up in distaste. He didn’t like that woman very much.

“What does she want?”

“One hundred and twenty dollars transferred to her account for some shoes she likes. Apparently, I haven’t been an attentive enough boyfriend and have been ‘stingy’ with the gifts. She says it’s time I bought her something nice,” mumbled Sam as he began to type out a reply.

Gabriel snorted in disbelief. “I hope you’re telling her where to shove it.”

Sam blinked and finally dragged his gaze from his phone to stare at the back of Gabriel’s head.

“What? No. Why would I do that? I’m going to transfer the money.”

Gabriel paused his grinding and whirled around to face Sam, eyes wide and incredulous. 

“You’re just going to give her the money? She demands cash and that’s it; you give it to her?”

Sam frowned in confusion. “It’s not as though I’m short of it. If she wants a gift, she can have one.”

Gabriel huffed out a laugh. “Gifts are supposed to be special. They’re supposed to be something you give to someone because you were thinking about them or because you care for them and you want to do something nice for them. They’re not something you buy yourself after demanding the money from someone else.”

“Well… I do care for Ruby,” said Sam weakly. “And maybe I haven’t paid enough attention to her recently and a gift would rectify that.”

Gabriel crossed his arms. “There are so many things wrong with that, I don’t know where to start. Okay, one, you can’t buy people’s affection, Sam. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that. Throwing money at someone because you haven’t paid attention to them is not only lazy, but it’s not the formula for a healthy relationship either. Two, maybe you haven’t been paying attention to Ruby recently, but she’s not exactly been forthcoming with you either. In fact, the only time she ever seems to give you any notice is when she wants something from you. Three, if Ruby really cared about you, she wouldn’t be all over Azazel whenever you’re around. She had her tongue down his throat at that party even though she knew you were watching.”

Gabriel frowned at Sam in disapproval. “Why are you with her? She clearly doesn’t want you and you could do so much better than someone who just uses you for money. When was the last time she was actually affectionate with you?”

Sam grimaced and averted his gaze. “Um… never, actually. I mean… we’ve had sex and we’ve made out on the couch and I took her on dates and stuff, but… we’ve never… we’ve never really cuddled or held hands or any of that other crap you see in chick flicks.”

Gabriel blinked at Sam’s honesty. “Oh,” he said. “Do… do you want to? With her, I mean. Did you want to do all that cutesy stuff?”

Gabriel could feel his cheeks reddening and he refused to dissect the reason for that. Instead he watched Sam shift his weight around uncomfortably before he shook his head.

“Ruby isn’t… I didn’t ask Ruby out because I liked her in that way. She was the hottest nurse on the unit and I thought it would be good for my image if I was with her.”

Gabriel’s mouth drew downwards. “Sam- ”

“I also had an intense rivalry with Azazel at the time and since Ruby was dating him, when I caught her stealing drugs from the hospital, I told her if she broke up with him and got with me instead, I wouldn’t report her.”

Gabriel’s jaw dropped as Sam ducked his head with a wince.

“I… um… I think she’s still taking them,” admitted Sam.

Gabriel took a moment to process all that before exploding.

“Do I really need to tell you how much of an _asshole_ you are?” He snapped, making Sam flinch. “Not only did you break up someone else’s relationship for your own personal gain, you did it to hurt one of your classmates and you expected Ruby to just go along with it and let you use her body!”

“Hold on a second, Ruby was the one who wanted sex, not me,” protested Sam. “Yes, I broke them up and I wanted people to see me and Ruby together, but sex wasn’t part of the deal. I’m an asshole, but I’m not that big of an asshole.”

Gabriel clenched his fists, furious for some reason. He didn’t know why he was experiencing such a strong reaction to Sam’s confession, but he was and he needed Sam to understand why he was in the wrong.

“Fine. You didn’t ask for sex. That doesn’t make you a good person!” He hissed. “You knew Ruby was stealing drugs and yet you did nothing! In fact, you practically blackmailed her! That’s bordering on illegal, Sam!”

“She didn’t want anyone to find out!” Argued Sam. “I could have got her thrown off her course, but I didn’t. I kept it quiet.”

“She needs help!” Yelled Gabriel frustratedly. “She’s taking drugs! She needs psychological help!”

Sam snapped his mouth shut as realization brightened his eyes. He stared at the fuming Gabriel for a moment before licking his lips.

“I… I didn’t think about it like that.”

“No, because you were too wrapped up in your own selfish thoughts to consider that Ruby needs therapy,” growled Gabriel. “You were so determined to hurt Azazel that you didn’t think how Ruby is suffering from her addiction.”

“Azazel hasn’t done anything either and he knows Ruby takes drugs,” Sam said quietly.

“Does that make you feel like a better person?” Asked Gabriel drily. “He doesn’t care so why should you?”

Sam flinched once more and looked away.

“Not only are you shallow and selfish, you’re unfeeling and cruel,” sneered Gabriel harshly. “You treat people like objects and you don’t care how your actions hurt them. You’re sick enough to use a mentally ill woman in the hopes that your precious reputation won’t be tainted. It’s disgusting and you’re too vain to see it.”

The was a long minute of silence where neither of them spoke and it took a little longer for Gabriel to realise that Sam was crying quietly.

Tears trickled down his face and onto his arms, where they were wrapped around his body and although his eyes were hidden by his long bangs, Gabriel could see Sam’s shoulders were tense from his silent sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Sam croaked after a while, unable to meet Gabriel’s gaze. “I’m so sorry.”

Gabriel sagged. He’d expected shouting and posturing and for Sam to try to defend his actions. He hadn’t expected this.

“Don’t tell _me_ that,” Gabriel said sternly. Sam might be a mess right now, but that didn’t mean Gabriel forgave him. Sam had to earn that.

Sam hugged himself a little tighter. “What do I do?” He mumbled, voice hoarse.

Gabriel scowled. “If you don’t know, you don’t understand what you’ve done wrong and I’m wasting my time here.”

It took another minute for Sam to pull himself together, but Gabriel didn’t move. He waited for Sam to straighten and pluck his phone off the counter. He typed out a message and waited for the response.

His phone rang and he immediately hit ‘accept’.

Gabriel heard some irate, muffled yelling from the other end of the line before Sam gulped.

“No, we’re over. I’m not giving you more money unless it’s to help pay for therapy… No, I’m not… We’re through. You need help… I know I said I wouldn’t tell anyone, but this has gone on long enough… It’s not healthy! You need to stop… If you don’t tell anyone, I will… It’s not about getting you kicked out of college! It’s about you breaking free of this addiction…”

Sam scowled as there was a lengthy explanation from the seething Ruby.

“They won’t kick me off the course… I know, but… What do you mean I’m an ‘accomplice’? I’m not…” 

Sam suddenly paled. “They can’t do that, I never stole the drugs. You did. I just… Fine, I won’t tell anyone. But you need help. You need therapy or at the very least someone to talk to… Fine, go back to Azazel. You’ve been screwing him behind my back for weeks now anyway. I don’t care. I shouldn’t have broken you guys up anyway… I really don’t care. You deserve someone who wants you for you, not because of how you look… Look, I’m just trying to be nice. I’m saying we’re over so you can go back to him. I promise not to tell anyone about the drugs, but you have to talk to someone about it…” Another explanation and Sam clenched his fists, gaze narrowed.

“Screw you! I never forced you, you asked me! I’m trying to be the good guy for once. I’m trying to help you! I should never have blackmailed you like that and I’m sorry. However, I’m not your personal bank account; you can’t ask me for cash whenever you want something. You can’t use me like that, just like I shouldn’t have used you… No, I’m doing what’s right and I’m trying to better myself...”

Sam stiffened. “Leave him out of it,” he hissed. “This has nothing to do with him. It’s to do with me being a dick and now I’m trying to rectify that.” He gritted his teeth as Ruby scoffed something Gabriel couldn’t make out.

“We’re done,” Sam growled. “Text me if you need money for a therapist.”

He ended the call.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow in query as Sam threw his phone on the counter with a little too much force.

“She was furious I wouldn’t give her the money, threatened to tell the college I knew about her stealing drugs and that I was therefore an accomplice. She told me she’d been cheating on me with Azazel for weeks, said I’d be begging for her to come back to me in a couple of weeks because I only care about my image, then told me if I didn’t give her money, she’d tell everyone I blackmailed her and forced her to have sex with me when I found out she was abusing drugs,” he huffed.

Gabriel winced. Sam might have been at fault for most of the situation, but Ruby wasn’t an innocent party either. She wasn’t someone Gabriel would ever want to be associated with, let alone in a relationship with. He was all for a bit of fun and mischief, but Ruby was just plain trouble.

“Well, you’ve done the right thing now. You broke things off and advised her to seek help and although you haven't informed the college of her substance abuse, you have offered to pay for her therapy, which I suppose is the next best thing considering how she’s threatening to get you kicked off the course and possibly sentenced to prison,” Gabriel said, brows furrowed in concern. Telling people that Sam had forced her to have sex with him was a low blow with serious consequences for Sam, especially when it wasn’t true.

“Did she mention your brother or something?” Asked Gabriel, remembering the tail-end of the conversation.

Sam frowned in confusion. “What? No. Why?”

“At the end, you said ‘Leave him out of it’. Who was she talking about?” Gabriel asked curiously.

Sam’s face flushed pink and he returned his gaze to his phone, sliding it off the counter and shoving into his pocket.

He shrugged. “One of our other friends on the unit,” he said and immediately, Gabriel could tell he was lying.

He didn’t push though. He had a feeling Sam would only get angry.

“You did well,” he offered softly. “You did the right thing.”

Sam swiped at his eyes and Gabriel finally noticed how red they were from his crying.

“…Thanks,” mumbled Sam quietly and it was so pathetic, Gabriel couldn’t help but cross the floor and wrap a comforting arm around the younger man.

Sam leaned into him stiffly and Gabriel rubbed his back.

“Maybe you’re not such an asshole,” he teased. “I’m kinda proud of you, kiddo. You handled all of that remarkably well. You didn’t even shout at me.” Sam deserved recognition for his efforts to better himself. If he didn’t get praise every so often, what was the point in him changing? It was like training a dog to shake its paw; you had to treat it when it got the action correct otherwise the dog had no incentive to perform the trick.

Sam cracked a small smile and relaxed into Gabriel then. Gabriel chuckled to himself at the reaction; a bit of positive reinforcement went a long way.

“Not your fault I’m a jerk,” Sam mumbled, leaning his head against Gabriel’s and the older man thought about how warm Sam was pressed into his side and how comfortable he felt.

“You’re learning,” Gabriel murmured, hand stroking Sam’s spine gently.

He startled when a pair of long arms slithered around his waist as Sam pressed his nose into his hair. He was suddenly tucked into Sam’s strong body and all he could think about was how good the younger man’s cologne smelled and how he fit perfectly into Sam’s arms.

All too soon, Sam released Gabriel with a weak smile. “You need to practice for your exam.”

For the first time in a long time, Gabriel really didn’t want to cook. He glanced at Sam’s long arms again before offering the other man a forced smile and returning to his baklava.

 

* * *

 

_**Live music in the park @ 7 if you wanna join? I’ll bring baklavas** _

Castiel flicked his gaze to his phone, brow cocked as he read the message. He wondered what kind of game Dean was playing. He couldn’t see any hidden meanings behind the text; there were no implications of strip clubs or prostitutes, but then again, he didn’t know what a baklava was. Maybe it was some kind of sex toy. Or alcohol made to get people drunk as fast as possible.

He frowned. Then why invite him to the park? 

He picked up his phone and began googling the term ‘baklava’.

His eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. They were little pastries. That was unexpected.

_**They’re homemade ;)** _

Castiel felt a smile tug at his lips as the message popped up on his screen. It faded a little as he mulled over whether he was being too harsh on Dean. He always expected the worst out of the man and maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. He should give Dean a chance; he was only being friendly, after all. He typed out a reply.

_See you at 7_

He yelped as his phone was snatched from his hands and he turned to see Balthazar grinning at him, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Who’re you texting, Cassie?” He asked innocently as he held the phone out of the other man’s reach. “Surely, you’re not hiding a new love interest from me, are you?”

Castiel scowled. “Return my phone.”

Balthazar chuckled. “This girl really has your panties in a twist, hm?” He shook his head and gestured to Castiel’s workbook and notes strewn over the table. “Enough to distract you from your studies at least.”

“Balthazar,” Castiel warned but Balthazar merely snickered and slid over to the next seat so he was out of Castiel’s reach.

“Let’s find out who this mystery woman is,” he winked and Castiel felt his stomach sink as he watched Balthazar scroll through his texts with Dean, his face slowly losing all traces of humour and eventually morphing into a stony scowl.

He slid the phone over the table in silence, passing it back to Castiel as he stared at his friend in a mixture of disapproval and betrayal.

“You’re meeting with him, now?” Asked Balthazar quietly, tone cold and accusing.

Castiel thrust his phone into his pocket and shrugged defensively. “I’m allowed to talk to whomever I please.”

“You sucking his dick too?” Growled Balthazar.

Castiel bristled and leaned over the table, lowering his voice so surrounding students couldn’t listen in.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I’m not. And how dare you speak to me like that,” he hissed.

“I'm sorry,” sneered Balthazar, voice low but sharp. “I assumed you were smarter than chumming up with Winchester when you know his only intention is to screw you. I figured since that assumption was wrong, then maybe you were ass-up for him after all.”

Castiel tensed as a wave of fury washed over him.

“Screw you, Balthazar,” he snarled. “Just because you were desperate enough to be underneath him, that doesn’t mean I am. I don’t know why you think you can address me like that, but you’d better stop before I break your teeth.”

Balthazar crossed his arms over his chest and turned away angrily. Castiel watched him square his jaw and didn’t feel the least bit guilty about threatening to punch his friend.

“You’re going to get hurt,” Balthazar muttered after a minute or so. “That’s what he does.”

“That’s what he did with you,” mumbled Castiel petulantly, still a little angry at the other man for what he’d said.

Balthazar stiffened and narrowed his gaze at Castiel.

“Do you honestly think you’re special? You’re just the same as all his other conquests. Once he gets you into bed, he’ll lose interest in you and break your heart. That’s how he works. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re another score on some ridiculous tally. Or maybe part of a stupid bet with his brother.”

Castiel scowled. “I have no intention of sleeping with him. He’s not exactly my type. He’s just asked me to meet up with him to listen to some music. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt!” Snapped Balthazar frustratedly, making Castiel clamp his mouth shut.

Balthazar sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said. That was out of line. But Cas… Dean Winchester is trouble. Once he sets his sights on you, everything to him is a game. He doesn’t care about your feelings and he certainly doesn’t care if he breaks your heart at the end of the game. You’re just a target to him. He’ll work his charms on you, make you feel special and when you inevitably fall for him, he’ll tell you he doesn’t want you anymore and leave you wondering where to go from there.”

Castiel regarded Balthazar for a few moments. “…I thought you said you only dated him for two weeks?”

Balthazar dropped his gaze. “Officially, yes. We kept things quiet at first though. For the first ten weeks no one knew a thing. It was an open relationship and I didn’t mind him sleeping with other people because we started out as friends with benefits. By the end of nine weeks though… I didn’t like the idea of him sleeping with anyone else. I got attached to him and he told me I wasn’t like the others. He told me he liked being with me. Made me feel… special. 

“I asked him to be monogamous and he agreed and we made things official shortly after. I thought he was falling for me like I was falling for him. He took me on dates and bought me gifts. We watched movies on his couch and made out until the moon rose high into the sky. We made love and he held me close as we slept, waking me up with kisses in the mornings.

“Then I found his tally book and I realised… I meant _nothing_ to him. I was just another mark in the ‘French’ column.”

Balthazar clenched his fists, eyes glazed. “I confronted him about it and he didn’t even protest. I dumped him on the spot and he just… shrugged, like he didn’t care. He had no feelings for me. I was just a part of one of his twisted games and he didn’t care that he hurt me.”

Balthazar glanced up at Castiel, water threatening to spill over his lashes. “I once heard him talking to his brother about me. It was a few days after I left him and neither of them knew I was in the restroom. Sam knew about Dean’s tally. They spoke about me as though I was nothing more than an experiment. A statistic to be recorded. In the same breath, they discussed a Spanish girl who had recently moved to the University. She was next on Dean’s list.”

Castiel stared at Balthazar. He’d always assumed he knew the whole story of Balthazar and Dean’s relationship, but apparently his friend hadn’t revealed all of it.

And with good reason. Balthazar had clearly been wounded by Dean’s actions and it pained him to talk about it. Balthazar also hated being pitied and it was hard not to pity him after such a confession. 

Once again, Castiel felt angry at Dean. Angry at the hurt he’d caused his friend and angry at his indifference to everything he’d done. 

“I hate it when you look at me like that,” mumbled Balthazar. “I’m over him now, I just get vexed when I think about what he put me through.”

Castiel deflated and shifted to sit beside Balthazar. Balthazar looked ready to protest but thought better of it when Castiel slipped an arm around him and tugged him into his side. The blonde relented and rested his head upon Castiel’s shoulder, staring at his music theory notes.

“I don’t want you to get hurt like I did,” he whispered softly. “I know you have strong will and you’re not easily fooled, but Dean is dangerous. He has seduced women and men, straight people and gay, virgins and the experienced, plus many others besides. He’s not to be underestimated and I don’t want you to be another statistic in his book. You deserve better.”

Castiel’s gaze softened and he leaned his head against Balthazar’s, tightening his grip on the man.

“I promise I won’t be,” Castiel murmured. “I’ll never fall for Dean and I certainly won’t allow myself to become one of his conquests.”

“You won’t get too close to him?” Pressed Balthazar. “You won’t be taken in by his charms?”

“What charms?” Teased Castiel and Balthazar quirked a small smile at that. 

“He can be very persuasive when he wants to be,” commented Balthazar as he closed his eyes and focused on the muscle of Castiel’s shoulder and the grounding arm around his waist. “Don’t trust him.”

“I won’t,” whispered Castiel, unable to help himself from nuzzling into Balthazar’s hair.

The blonde man smiled contentedly.

“Sometimes, I miss you, Castiel,” he murmured, leaning into his friend.

Castiel squeezed him gently. “Sometimes, I miss you too,” he replied softly.

Maybe Balthazar was right. Maybe he was getting too close to Dean. Going to the park that evening would be a bad idea and it would only encourage Dean to keep flirting with him. He shouldn’t go.

Mind made up, Castiel shared a quiet moment with Balthazar; the pair just focusing on one another’s warmth and their familiar scents before Castiel’s arm slid away from Balthazar’s waist and he slowly retreated to his original chair. They smiled fondly at one another and returned to their work.

 

* * *

 

“You coming to the club tonight?” Asked Abaddon, eyebrow cocked at Dean as though he was a curious rat in her laboratory. “I’m happy to be your wing woman if you help me hook a hot guy.”

To the surprise of his friends, Dean shook his head.

“Already made plans. Sorry,” he said, shrugging his shoulders apologetically.

Lilith narrowed her eyes. “With Castiel?”

Dean grinned and nodded. “Live music in the park tonight. There’s a barbecue on and I’ve packed some baklavas from Gabe’s exam practice last night. Wanna try one?”

He made to grab the box of homemade treats, when Alastair wrinkled his nose.

“What’s gotten into you, man? Music in the park? Pastries? Letting that mangey paedophile into your kitchen? Are you having a midlife crisis? Do you finally need a straight jacket? C’mon, what’s wrong with you?” Alastair snorted.

Dean winced and was about to make up some lie as to why Gabriel was using their kitchen, when he remembered how grateful the older man had been a couple of days ago when he’d been allowed to practice in their suite for his exam. He remembered how patient and gentle Gabriel had been with Sam whilst teaching him how to cook and he thought about all the times Gabriel had included Dean himself in his teaching sessions; how playful he was and how much he seemed to enjoy having both Winchesters around, no matter if they were helping him cook or merely watching TV with him.

He wondered if Gabriel ever missed his family, or if he wished he could tease and chat with them like he did with the Winchesters. Just how lonely was Gabriel?

“His name’s Gabriel,” Dean stated quietly but with conviction, making his friends frown at him in confusion. “And stop calling him a ‘paedophile’. He’s a good guy.”

He watched his friends raise their eyebrows in shock.

“He’s a filthy beggar,” said Alastair lowly, eyes narrowed as if to test Dean. “And you’re not supposed to defend him. He’s part of a bet, remember? You’re not actually supposed to like the mongrel.”

Dean bristled, suddenly irritated by the way his friends seemed intent on insulting Gabriel.

“Enough,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes at them. “He doesn’t deserve all the crap he gets. Lay off him, alright? He’s just trying to make something of himself and he works damn hard at it. Leave the guy in peace.”

Abaddon glanced at Alastair pointedly and the greasy man made a face of agreement before glancing over Dean with a look of disdain; Abaddon, Lilith, Gordon and Bartholomew quickly following suit.

“You like him,” Alastair accused and Dean scowled, opening his mouth to protest before deciding that yes, he did enjoy Gabriel’s company and what was wrong with that?

“So what?” He huffed. “He’s an interesting guy.”

Lilith frowned in confusion. “Is he good in the sack?”

Dean crossed his arms, a scowl marring his features. He was getting tired of everyone assuming that sex was the only thing he was good at and the only thing he ever thought about. Sure, he had a reputation he’d crafted himself, but that wasn’t his entire life. Why did everyone think it was the only thing he was capable of?

“I haven’t slept with him,” Dean grated out. “Nor do I plan to.”

“Then why are you defending him?” Lilith demanded before her face scrunched in distaste. “…Sam isn’t actually dating him, is he?”

Better him than Ruby, Dean thought idly.

“I don’t know! I don’t make it a habit to track my brother’s love life!” He grumped, shutting his laptop down because he suddenly didn’t feel in the mood to study.

Alastair and Gordon shared a brief glance before Gordon crossed his arms.

“Thought Sam didn’t like him? Thought this was all a bet?”

Dean winced slightly at the word ‘bet’. Having Gabriel stay at their suite and teach them how cook didn’t feel much like part of a bet. Watching Sam smile softly at Gabriel as the man cracked jokes and weaved stories didn’t feel anything like a bet, much less part of a losing bet.

He shrugged uncomfortably. “…It is,” he said awkwardly, the words tasting bitter and wrong. “But that doesn’t mean we have to be cruel to him.”

Bartholomew snorted. “You’re using him as a forfeit for a losing bet. The whole point is if you succeed in bedding Novak, Sam is going to be forced to date Gabriel until he graduates college. You’re already demeaning him and implying he’s too repulsive to date voluntarily. Is that not cruel? Don’t pretend to be a righteous man now, Dean.”

Dean scowled at his closed laptop, mulling Bartholomew’s words over and trying to find a loophole in them. Upon finding none, he glared harder at his laptop.

“Just… lay off him, okay?” He grumbled, making his friends smirk in triumph.

“Whatever,” shrugged Abaddon. “Hope you win your _bet_ ,” she drawled, emphasising the word ‘bet’ just to watch Dean grimace. Then she glided away, the rest of the group in tow.

Dean packed up his notes roughly, mood soured. 

 

* * *

 

His mood had picked up considerably by the time he was seated on the grass, a six-pack beside him, the band beginning their first song and the smell of salty beef and smoky sausages drifting through the air. There were quite a few students littered throughout the park; more so than usual due to the live entertainment and it was a peaceful setting with people reading or chatting on benches or the grass. 

Dean reclined on the ground, hands clasped behind his head as he smiled up at the dusky, orange sky. It had just passed seven p.m. and as the sound of guitars, husky saxophones and soft cymbals lilted through the park, Dean decided that although rock music was his favourite genre, traditional jazz had its merits. He wondered if Castiel liked jazz music. He would have to ask him when he arrived.

With one leg propped over the other, Dean closed his eyes and waited for Castiel to join him.

And waited…

…and waited.

At quarter-to-eight, Dean frowned in concern and texted Castiel to ask where he was.

After ten minutes of no reply, Dean started to worry if Castiel was alright. He called the other man twice and texted him again.

After half an hour, it dawned on Dean that Castiel was fine and he’d been ditched.

He slumped in realisation as his third call didn’t even reach voicemail; someone had rejected it.

He glanced at the empty space beside him and the five unopened cans by his leg. He’d planned on sharing them but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. His gaze flicked to the barbeque, still sizzling away and emanating delicious smells that made his stomach rumble, but suddenly, Dean didn’t feel like eating. A numbness swept through him as he stared at the band without really seeing them.

He’d been looking forward to meeting Castiel again tonight. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t think he was entirely useless and stupid when it came to matters other than sex. In fact, it was nice to talk to someone whose conversation topics didn’t always lead to sex. 

He’d wanted to tell Castiel about how well he’d done in his test; how he’d surprised his professor by coming in the top three of his class. He’d wanted to watch Castiel smile that little amused yet somehow sincere smile as he actually listened to what Dean had to say. He’d wanted to ask how Castiel’s classes were going and if he would like Dean to return the favour next time Castiel needed someone to test him for an exam. 

He’d wanted to just sit with Castiel and chat to him about the music and the food and start silly arguments over who had the better car. He’d wanted to ask if Castiel liked the honey he’d gifted him and if he’d ever tried honey collecting.

Dean squared his jaw and frowned at his beers bitterly.

 _Fine._ If Castiel wanted to blow him off without even a half-assed excuse, then Dean would treat him like all his other ‘bets’. Because that’s all Castiel was. He was no better than the others despite leading Dean to believe he was, and if Castiel saw him as a dumb whore not worth his time, then why should Dean treat Castiel any differently to his other challenges?

Time to up his game.

He would have Castiel in his bed by the end of the month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	13. Chapter 13

After the day Gabriel had suffered through, he was looking forward to sliding into Sam’s car and being escorted to the plush suite. He secretly hoped the Winchesters would ask him to sleep over again so he could relax between them on their huge couch and fall asleep, content and imaging he had a family who actually cared about him and liked him being around. He wondered if it was weird to think of the Winchesters as his imaginary family. 

He shrugged and decided he didn’t care. They seemed to enjoy his company.

And after a day of being yelled at by Asmodeus for not owning a zester for citrus fruit grating (what was wrong with a bog-standard grater?) and being laughed at by his peers when his was the only soufflé in the class to fall (because Asmodeus had opened the oven during his tirade about zesters to show Gabriel that his lemon peel topping was too thick and short), Gabriel wanted nothing more than to let the Winchesters’ comforting voices wash over him. 

He didn’t even want to think about how Asmodeus had arranged for Gabriel to meet his personal tutor due to his ‘lazy work ethic’ and ‘ignorant attitude’, which would surely give him a black mark against his name, and he certainly didn’t want to think about how Asmodeus had threatened to reduce his credits for his final exam if he showed up to class once more without every single piece of equipment he couldn’t afford. He didn’t want to have to resit the year – he couldn’t afford it.

His spirits lifted once he saw Sam a little distance away and he perked up and picked up his pace, smiling when Sam spotted him and a grin swept over his handsome features.

He slowed however, when he realized Sam wasn’t alone. Accompanying him was Raphael, Bela, Ruby and Azazel.

He’d assumed Sam had cut ties with Ruby and Azazel, but apparently that wasn’t the case. He supposed it wasn’t a bad thing for Sam to stay friends with his ex and being able to act civil with the man she’d cheated on him with was certainly admirable, but Gabriel wasn’t sure it would be terrible if he suddenly stopped associating with the pair.

“Gabriel,” Sam greeted happily as though he was oblivious to the looks of disgust his friends were shooting Gabriel.

“Uh… hi,” Gabriel offered, trying to sound as though he didn’t mind being around the people who had dumped caviar and beer over his head and ridiculed him afterwards.

Bela sneered at him as though he was a filthy rat that had crawled out of a gutter.

Sam either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it. “We were thinking of going to the movies tonight. Wanna join?”

Gabriel straightened a little. He did love popcorn and surround sound. 

“What are you watching?” He asked before he could think about it.

“Black Panther,” grinned Sam. “What do you think? You in?”

Gabriel gazed at Sam’s hopeful face for a moment, feeling warmth blossom through his chest at being wanted for once. The escapism of a darkened movie theatre sounded great after the day he’d just had, add in a sprinkle of popcorn and a dash of Sam, and Gabriel was excited for the night ahead.

“Okay, enough is enough, Sam,” scoffed Bela and any excitement Gabriel had quickly withered and shrivelled into nothing.

Sam frowned as he turned to the brunette. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, puzzled.

Bela clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms.

“You don’t honestly think he’s coming with us, do you? I wouldn’t be caught dead with him. I mean… look at him. No money, no friends, torn jeans and whatever that is dribbled down his shirt…”

Gabriel glanced down at himself and realised with dismay that the lemon must have splashed back at him when he was cleaning up.

“He doesn’t belong with us, Sam,” snorted Bela. “He’ll just use us for money.”

Gabriel scowled at that one. They had a lot of gall to accuse Gabriel of using them for money when all they did was expect Sam to pay for them.

“Not to mention he’s desperate,” commented Raphael airily as if Gabriel was some sort of dog that had no clue what he was talking about. “He clearly doesn’t understand that his juvenile little crush on you is inappropriate and unwelcome. He just doesn’t seem to comprehend the word ‘no’.”

Gabriel felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. 

“C’mon, Sam. Get rid of him,” complained Ruby irritatedly. “Tell him to leave us alone. He’s such a slob.”

Sam’s brows pinched together as Gabriel stared down at his clothes miserably.

“Wait a minute, guys,” he began, a touch of annoyance flavouring his tone, “that’s a little rude. It’s not his fault he hasn’t got as much money as we have. He’s just trying to get through college.” Sam’s mouth drew downwards. “And he’s hardly a slob. In fact, he rarely ever spills anything over himself during his classes and he always wears an apron.”

Gabriel glared at the splash of lemon on his shirt. Too bad he’d taken his apron off when he was cleaning his station.

Ruby turned her nose up in distaste. “He’s so old and creepy,” she commented. “Why can’t he make friends with people his own age? Why can’t he go spoil their evenings instead of ours?”

Sam looked irritated now. “He’s only what? Three years older than Raph? And how is he creepy? Why can’t you just be civil with him? He’s done nothing wrong.”

Sam’s friends shared pointed glances.

A few moments later, Raphael stared at Sam coolly. 

“We’ve put up with you hanging around that… _trash_ for long enough now,” he rumbled. “We’ve tried pushing him away but he keeps coming back because you keep humouring him. He doesn’t belong with us, Sam and he never will. He’ll never become more than what you see before you because he’s not intelligent or strong or good-looking or, well… anything. He’ll never amount to anything and he’ll always expect handouts from people who are better than him, people who are successful; people like us. 

“We are upper class. We have nice houses and expensive vacations and we earn a lot of money because we have respectable jobs that we’ve worked hard for. He doesn’t have a class. He’s a lazy slob who likes to complain about people like us and that’s why he belongs in the gutter.”

Raphael’s gaze narrowed. “We’re giving you a choice. Stay with us, where you belong – where your intelligence and looks and talents will be appreciated and respected… or join him.” He nodded to Gabriel. “And rot in the gutter.”

Sam stared at his friends, bewildered. He floundered for a response, his mouth opening and closing a few times before it snapped shut and he had to re-run the ultimatum in his head once more just to believe that it had actually happened.

Gabriel flinched as Sam wilted in defeat. 

Without a word, Gabriel swivelled on his heel and trudged in the opposite direction, mourning the loss of his developing friendship with Sam. He couldn’t expect the younger man to choose him over the friends he’d had since starting the course. He couldn’t expect Sam to give up his social circle to give a desperate loser like him a chance.

His face felt hot and he wasn’t sure whether it was from humiliation or grief. He sighed and pressed the heel of his palm into his eye in frustration. 

He’d enjoyed the Winchesters’ company immensely. Their suite was the one place he was wanted. Needed, even.

He didn’t need to hear Sam reject him. He didn’t think his heart could take it. He already felt a little queasy at the idea of Sam agreeing with his cruel friends.

He’d better start thinking about that meeting with his tutor.

A minute later, he heard heavy footsteps jogging behind him and he startled when a large hand caught his shoulder.

“Gabriel, wait.”

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at Sam’s command and whirled around to face the apologetic-looking giant. He sagged slightly, feeling his heart beginning to ache.

“Sam, look, it’s okay. I get it. I’m not your first choice in- ”

“No, it’s not okay,” interrupted Sam firmly. “What they said wasn’t okay and I want to apologise in case you actually listened to them and got offended by any of it.”

Gabriel blinked in surprise and tilted his head. “Wait… I thought you’re not allowed to talk to me anymore? Why are you here?”

Sam’s lips tugged upwards slightly in amusement. “I just told them you were smarter than them. Please don’t prove me wrong now.”

Gabriel stared at Sam in confusion before his eyes widened and he felt a delighted grin threatening to break out over his face.

“…You chose…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence due to the shock of it all.

Sam chuckled and nodded. “I hear gutter-life is far more fun anyway.”

Gabriel huffed out a laugh of disbelief. He glanced to the side to find Azazel, Raphael, Ruby and Bela glowering at them both in fury, looking as though they would happily set them on fire if they had some oil handy. Gabriel caught Raphael’s clenched fists and had to wonder what Sam had said to them.

He felt his grin widen when Sam snaked an arm around his shoulders in full view of the group and barked out a joyful laugh when the younger man stared back at the four calmly, almost smugly, as he tugged Gabriel into his side and led him towards the Lamborghini.

They slid into the front, ignoring the glares from Sam’s former friends, and when Sam flipped the radio on, Gabriel finally blurted out his questions.

“Okay, what happened? What did you say to them? Why did you choose me?”

Sam let a smug smirk linger on his face as he focused on the road.

“I told them they were cruel and spiteful assholes. Said you were far more intelligent than the four of them put together and you didn’t feel the need to flaunt your talents because you have nothing to prove, unlike them, who need validation for everything they do because they know they don’t have any talents. I told them they mock people because they’re jealous and that they only ridiculed your looks because they know if they stared at a mirror for too long, it would crack. 

“I also told them the only reason they got into med school is because their parents paid for them and that they’re a bunch of idiots for believing they’ve worked harder than you. I told them they would’ve broken down and given up if they faced even half of what you have and that you’ll always be stronger than they are because you’re determined and passionate and a far better person than they’ll ever hope to be.”

Gabriel’s expression softened and he stared at Sam in awe because he’d never expected anyone to defend him like that.

“I also said they’ll never be more than medical residents because they’re too stupid to graduate,” smirked Sam.

Gabriel felt the sudden urge to kiss Sam.

He restrained himself and released a bubbly laugh instead, but soon quieted when Sam flicked his soft gaze to him for a moment before returning his attention to the road.

“I’d pick one of you over four of them any day,” Sam murmured sincerely. “You’ve taught me how not to be a dick and I know I’m still learning but I’d like to think I’m becoming a better person because of you. I respect you far more than I respect them and one day, I hope you’ll think of me in the same way. You’re funny and smart and patient with me and I look forward to having you over. You actually listen to me and make me feel… worth something. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend like you. My friends use me and call me when it suits them, but you… you’re different. I feel like you… care about me. Other than Dean, no one has ever cared about me.”

Gabriel blinked at the heartfelt confession. He was always surprised when Sam opened up to him; merely because he wasn’t accustomed to it and had never seen the younger man open up to anyone else.

“Well… then you know exactly how I feel about you,” Gabriel murmured a little shyly and very awkwardly because this was emotional territory and he wasn’t sure how to deal with that. No one cared about how he felt so he never spoke about it.

There was a minute of uncomfortable silence before Sam cleared his throat.

“So… Black Panther?”

 

* * *

 

Dean stomped home late that night after his failed music and barbecue evening. He’d stopped at a bar and downed a few pints before trying to hook up with a guy, then he blew him off because he realised the last thing he wanted was another tally on his ‘conquest’ list to prove Castiel and everyone else right.

He staggered into the house at one in the morning and found himself staring at the couch, where Sam was wrapped around Gabriel under a large blanket, the remnants of Chinese takeout scattered over the coffee table and a demolished tub of popcorn perched on the arm of the couch.

He crept a little closer and felt his stomach twist at the sight of Sam’s arm strewn over Gabriel’s stomach, his nose pressed into his hair as Gabriel smiled contentedly in his sleep, legs lightly tangled with Sam’s and hand resting gently over Sam’s bare arm. They were both in PJs.

Dean’s lips drew into a thin line. They both looked so innocent lying together like that. They’d clearly had a good evening.

Unlike him.

“That’s really creepy, y’know.”

Dean startled and glanced down at Gabriel, who had cracked one eye open blearily to look at him.

“Weren’t you ever taught it’s rude to stare?” Gabriel hummed.

Dean said nothing and Gabriel turned slightly to get a better look at him.

“You look like crap,” he commented.

Dean huffed. “You, on the other hand, look really comfortable.”

A smile graced Gabriel’s lips. “I am,” he said unabashedly. “Now stop trying to change the subject. Why do you look like you drank a liquor store?”

Dean debated not answering and heading to bed, but ultimately decided against it because Gabriel wouldn’t judge him (much) and he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. He made his way to the other couch and slumped into it gracelessly, lips drawn downwards.

“Everyone thinks I’m stupid and that the only thing I’m good for is sex,” he huffed angrily, wondering whether it would be petulant to punch the empty popcorn container across the room.

Gabriel regarded him thoughtfully. “Isn’t that how you wanted everyone to see you? Maybe not the stupid thing, but the ‘sex god’ thing?”

Dean scowled. “Well… yeah. But I didn’t want people to think it’s the only thing I’m good at.” He hunched in on himself. “I’m sick of everyone looking at me in shock when I’m studying.”

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve been studying?”

Dean shot him a baleful glare before standing up and starting towards the stairs.

“Woah, woah, Dean-o. I didn’t mean any offence. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable of studying, I’m just not used to seeing you do it. Come back, please,” Gabriel said apologetically.

Dean moodily trudged over to the couch again and sank into it, refusing to meet Gabriel’s gaze. He was being childish but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“So basically you want people to think you’re smart and pretty?” Asked Gabriel with a raised eyebrow and when put like that, Dean grimaced and realised how pathetic he was being.

Gabriel chuckled quietly. “Can’t have it all.” He stared at Dean contemplatively. “But something tells me there’s something else going on in that brain of yours. Something else that’s working you up.”

Dean slowly focused on Gabriel’s soul-searching gaze. 

“I got ditched,” admitted Dean eventually, dropping his gaze because he couldn’t tell this story whilst looking Gabriel in the eye. Especially considering how it was linked with why Sam was suddenly paying the older man so much attention. “By a guy I’m interested in.”

Gabriel stroked a thumb absently over Sam’s wrist.

“Does this guy know you’re interested in him?” He asked curiously.

Dean nodded, staring hard at the carpet.

“What happened?” Prompted Gabriel.

Dean shrugged. “I asked him to meet me in the park for live music and a barbecue. He said he’d meet me at seven. He didn’t show at seven. I called him a while later and he rejected the call.”

Gabriel frowned. “Rude. What’s this guy’s name?”

“…Castiel Novak,” Dean admitted with a queasy feeling in his stomach. He shouldn’t be discussing this with Gabriel.

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that the President’s son?”

Dean nodded. “He’s also a virgin and very straight. Studies math. Has a couple of other degrees. Solid friends. Good work ethic. Smart. He’s not really the type to blow people off like that, yet he’s obviously deemed me unworthy of his time.” Dean’s mouth drew into an unhappy line. “Screw him, right? Who needs him?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Dean. “…You say he’s straight and a virgin, yet you’re pursuing him. Why?”

Dean shrugged and hoped he didn’t look guilty. “Some people change their minds very suddenly.”

Gabriel obviously didn’t buy it. “I’m sensing a story that you’re not telling me.”

Dean rolled his shoulders and tried to appear nonchalant. “Nope. Thought the guy looked interesting, wanted to see if I could change his mind about his sexuality. Turns out I can’t and he’s like everyone else who thinks I’m stupid and only useful for sex.”

Gabriel stared at him, unimpressed. “To be fair to him, sounds like all you’ve done is try to get this guy into bed. Considering you know he’s straight and yet you’ve still made passes at him, I don’t think it’s unreasonable for him to think you’re stupid and only interested in sex.”

Dean straightened, a clearly affronted expression sweeping over his face.

“That’s not true! I’ve tried being friendly with him! I’ve done the things he asked! I focused less on sleeping around and more on studying and reading and other things because he told me I could be better than I was. Now he won’t even answer my calls!”

Gabriel frowned. “Have you done something to upset him?”

Dean winced at the memory of the strip club.

“Or something to upset his friends?” Asked Gabriel.

Dean frowned. He’d never really interacted with Castiel’s friends. Well, none except Balthazar.

_…Oh._

He remembered Balthazar’s threat towards him at the club. There was no way Castiel didn’t know about his time with Balthazar if the two were as close as the French man made them out to be.

“That’s the expression of a guilty man who’s just realised his mistakes,” remarked Gabriel lightly, thumb rubbing circles into Sam’s wrist. 

Dean grimaced. “I may have hurt one of his friends, but in my defence, I didn’t know he was Castiel’s friend.”

Gabriel frowned reproachfully. “Hurting anyone, no matter who they are is unacceptable. You should know that. What did you do to the friend?”

Dean winced. He really didn’t want to discuss that with Gabriel right now. Or ever.

“It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged awkwardly, making Gabriel frown in disapproval. 

“Clearly, it does if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Dean stood abruptly. “I’m going to bed,” he said stiffly, marching towards the stairs because there was no way he was talking about what happened with Balthazar and how he’d treated the man. Not with Gabriel.

He frowned. He’d never cared about any of his exes before. He’d never cared how he’d broken up with them or how he’d used them in the past but suddenly, discussing Balthazar and that stupid challenge he’d set himself to bed as many nationalities as possible seemed a daunting, uncomfortable task. What would Gabriel think if he told him he’d used people as part of challenge he’d planned out for himself one evening when he’d been alone and particularly bored? What would Gabriel say if he revealed he’d agreed to be Balthazar’s boyfriend merely because he had nothing better to do and the French accent had turned him on? What would Gabriel do if he explained how he hadn’t really cared for Balthazar throughout their time together and had been nothing more than mildly irritated when the other man had found his nationality tally and had practically broken down on the spot? Would he call Dean a ‘cruel asshole’ like Balthazar had? Would he deem him vile and repulsive and emotionless? Would he ever talk to Dean again?

Better not to find out. Better not to put himself through the awkward discomfort and keep these swirling thoughts to himself. He could shove them down later and never think about them again. He’d never cared about Balthazar before; why should he care now?

His foot contacted the first step when Gabriel spoke again, soft and weary.

“I’ve found that the best way to encourage someone to forgive you is to apologise for what you did wrong.”

Dean paused, mulling this advice over with a small crease between his brows.

“You have to earn respect, Dean,” Gabriel continued quietly. “A good heart helps.”

Dean hesitated, contemplating Gabriel’s words before his mouth drew downwards in understanding and he nodded slowly.

“Thanks, Gabe,” he offered before flipping off the light, climbing the stairs and heading to bed, leaving Gabriel to stare at the stars through the huge glass window no one had bothered to cover over with the curtains.

“He slept with the guy,” murmured Sam, breath warm against the back of Gabriel’s neck.

Gabriel sighed. “I thought as much. Bad breakup?”

“For the guy,” hummed Sam quietly. “Dean was never really into him. Started off as friends with benefits, finished with Balthazar broken-hearted and Dean disinterested. Then again, Dean has never truly cared about anyone he’s slept with. Sex has always been a game to him; feelings and other people’s emotions never really enter his head.”

“Sounds like there’s a deeper story there.”

“Maybe there is, but I didn’t live through Dean’s childhood, so it’s not mine to tell.”

Gabriel remained silent for a few moments, gaze flicking from star to star as he continued to rub gentle circles into Sam’s wrist with his thumb.

“What about you?” He asked after a while, voice hushed but curious. “Is sex a game to you? Have you never cared about the partners you’ve slept with?”

Sam didn’t answer at first and Gabriel was left staring into the darkness of the room, but then the arm strewn around Gabriel tightened its grip slightly in a light squeeze.

“I suppose I haven’t,” Sam whispered. “But maybe that’s because I’ve never found the right partner.”

The darkened room fell silent, the stars the only source of light and with no one around to observe and judge them, Gabriel carefully tangled his fingers with Sam’s and felt a smile tug at his lips when Sam didn’t recoil in disgust.

With warm hands and shy, hidden smiles, the pair fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all thought Gabriel would be the one to help Dean out... ;)


	14. Chapter 14

There was a strange sort of tension between him and his friends that afternoon and Dean had a feeling it was because of his sudden change in behaviour. He hadn’t been accompanying them to nightclubs and bars and he wasn’t throwing his body around either, and Dean had a sneaking suspicion that his friends didn’t like it. They wanted him to go back to his old self; the old self that wouldn’t have defended Gabriel at their insults and the old self that would still be at the bottom of his class when it came to his studies.

Well, they’d have to deal with it because Dean liked the shock on his lecturers’ faces when he came in the top three highest performers and he liked the surprise of the other students when he answered questions correctly in lectures or volunteered to demonstrate in their practical classes, where before he’d been a silent observer at the back of the class, unwilling to participate in anything.

He also wanted to change this opinion everyone had of him regarding him only having talents for sex and being useless at everything else. He’d never realised that was how people saw him; he’d assumed people saw sex as an extra talent of his, something he enjoyed and was good at. The truth of people’s perceptions hurt.

Thus, his friends had been acting… off with him. Almost condescending really. They teased him about his studying and his change in attitude, but their tone didn’t feel like friendly teasing; more akin to mocking when he cared to think about it. They shared pointed looks between themselves and regularly asked him about the bet over Castiel, and when he told them nothing had happened between them, they sneered and laughed at him.

“Is all that studying actually paying off or are you just trying to impress your latest target?” Drawled Alastair, arching an eyebrow at him as though Dean amused him in some way.

Dean didn’t feel the need to dignify that patronising comment with a response, so he didn’t. He continued chewing on his burger.

“You mean _failing_ to impress his target?” Smirked Abaddon, making the others snicker. A small frown creased Dean’s brows but still, he said nothing.

“How long do you have left, Dean?” Hummed Bartholomew. “Ten days until you have to hand your car over to Sam?”

Dean scowled and chewed moodily. He really didn’t want to have to give up Baby, but a bet was a bet and he never went back on his word.

“I’ve got to admit, I am disappointed,” tutted Gordon. “Obviously, you’re losing your touch.”

 _Good,_ Dean thought.

He flicked his gaze around the room in boredom, having quickly lost interest in his friends’ comments. He spotted Castiel and his own group of friends in a booth on the far side of the room, lost in deep conversation but taking the time to laugh or grin in all the right places. He watched the older man for a moment longer, admiring his bright eyes and the strong jaw line that was beginning to develop a bit of a shadow – which really suited him, Dean privately mused. 

Not wanting to get caught staring, Dean glanced around the room again until his gaze landed on a familiar figure seated a couple of tables over from him.

Dean blinked, then frowned at the scene of Gabriel looking very uncomfortable amongst a herd of Sam’s former friends.

They were smirking at Gabriel as he tried to complete some sort of booklet and Dean could see their mouths moving, obviously ridiculing him after having swarmed his table.

Azazel had some kind of soup in a paper cup clasped in his hands whilst the others drank coffees or tea and Dean had a sick sort of feeling he knew how Gabriel’s lunchtime was going to end.

He watched everything unfold in slow motion, completely oblivious of his own friends and their irritated glaring as they figured out he wasn’t listening to them, and his heart sank as Azazel sneered something at Gabriel, making the shorter man’s lip draw into a tight line as he retorted hotly. The rest of the table smirked smugly as they continued to taunt Gabriel, but after a couple of minutes, Gabriel must have said something to shut them all up because suddenly, they were glaring at Gabriel in fury, fists clenched and jaws set as the older man’s lips curved sharply into a satisfied yet wary smile.

Dean watched in horror as Azazel tightened his grip on his soup cup. 

He stood, shoving past his friends despite their indignant complaints, but he barely made it two steps from the table before Azazel jerked his wrist and Gabriel was suddenly covered in hot tomato soup.

The table began to laugh as Gabriel yelped and bolted to his feet, shaking his arms out to rid himself of the steaming liquid and distantly, Dean could hear his own friends snickering and making tasteless comments about Gabriel’s misfortune. 

It made him angry and he pointedly turned around to snatch his bag from his seat, before marching towards Gabriel and Sam’s former friends. 

Without a word, he snagged Bela’s expensive, white faux fur coat from the back of her chair and refused to acknowledge her shocked shouts. Gabriel watched him in confusion before his eyes lit up in delight as Dean began to wipe him down with Bela’s coat, smearing the fur with bright red stains.

“You okay, man?” Asked Dean nonchalantly as he tossed Bela’s coat onto the table, knocking everyone’s coffees and tea into their laps, making them hiss and leap to their feet much in the same way Gabriel had a moment ago.

Gabriel’s eyes sparkled in pure joy as Dean winked at him. 

Dean turned to the table and feigned a look of surprise. “Whoops… sorry, guys. Clumsy me, right?”

He received four livid glares.

Uncaring, Dean turned away again and pretended not to notice how the entire dining hall was staring at him. 

“C’mon, I’ll take you home so you can get cleaned up,” Dean said a little louder than necessary just so his own friends understood he didn’t appreciate them mocking Gabriel. He patted Gabriel’s shoulder reassuringly and let his palm linger there in a semi-protective gesture as the shorter man quickly grabbed his bags and ruined booklet and glanced at Dean gratefully.

Dean led him out of the dining hall in silence and once they were outside, Gabriel turned to Dean with an expression that made him want to tug the older man into his side and growl at anyone who so much as looked at him wrong.

“Thank you,” whispered Gabriel.

“Don’t mention it,” replied Dean sincerely as they made their way over to where the car was parked. “I’ll take you back to your place so you can get changed. I have a lecture in an hour though, so be quick and try not to drip all over Baby’s interior. I don’t mind cleaning her but I’d rather not spend hours doing it.”

Gabriel chuckled and nodded. “Gotcha. I’ll do my best.”

Dean smiled before it faded a moment later as he glanced over Gabriel’s pink, angry skin, slightly roasted from boiling soup.

“Uh… do those need…?” He trailed off, leaving the question hanging as Gabriel inspected the mild burns.

Gabriel shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he shrugged. “I’ve faced worse.” 

Dean frowned at that. He had no doubt Gabriel was telling the truth and if his horrible childhood was anything to go by, he’d probably faced ‘worse’ quite a few times.

They slid into the car and fell quiet as Dean drove them to Gabriel’s.

 

* * *

 

That evening, Castiel found himself in the library, staring at the man Dean had defended earlier in the dining hall. He watched the blond man prop his head on his hand as he flicked through a recipe book, frowning and squinting at the pages every so often as though he didn’t agree with their contents or was trying to memorise them.

He wondered if Dean was sleeping with the man and that was why he had come to his aid so quickly that afternoon. The guy didn’t seem like Dean’s usual type.

His mind cast back to their talk a few days ago and he tilted his head at the blond and debated with himself over whether he could be the ‘Gabriel’ Dean had spoken so fondly about. He had no proof for that assumption but it was either that or Dean was screwing the guy.

Castiel had originally wandered into the library to get some work done because his housemate, Crowley, had popped up out of nowhere that morning and told him he would be having some friends around and because Castiel wasn’t entirely sure what kind of friends Crowley associated with and what sort of things they busied themselves with, he had chosen to linger in college a little longer in search of peace and quiet.

Now he was being wholly distracted by thoughts of the mystery man Dean had helped at lunch.

Why had that table thrown soup over the man anyway? What had he done to them? Castiel was pretty sure they were friends – or at least associates – of Sam’s because he’d seen them gathered together outside the medical school a few times. Why were they so against this guy? Why had Dean sided with the mystery man?

As Castiel had been observing the scene and he’d watched Dean march over, he’d half-expected Dean to join in on the teasing or maybe take a picture of the sodden man, so he’d been surprised when Dean had turned on Sam’s friends. He’d never seen Dean jump to anyone’s defence before, especially someone with holes in their clothes and a clear lack of money such as the mystery man.

His cheeks heated when said mystery man suddenly looked up from his book and stared at him and Castiel dropped his gaze in embarrassment, knowing he’d been caught.

Well, might as well introduce himself now. The very least he could do was express his sympathy and apology for what had happened in the dining room.

Mind made up, Castiel looked up again to find the blond still staring at him, a small frown marring his features. He smiled slightly at the shorter man and mystery man blinked before hesitantly returning the expression. Castiel stood and made his way over to the man’s table, trying not to squirm under his curious gaze.

 

* * *

 

Sam had texted him to inform him he was going to be a little late picking Gabriel up because he had a meeting with his tutor, so Gabriel had decided to wait in the warmth of the library until Sam escaped. 

He’d picked up a recipe book and was leafing through its pages for ideas on what to teach the Winchesters tonight, when he’d felt someone’s gaze on him. He’d looked up to find a man with dark hair and an intense blue gaze staring at him, tan trench coat still wrapped around his frame as though he’d come into the library and sat down with the intention of staring at Gabriel until one of them left.

_Weirdo._

The guy at least had the decency to look away when he’d caught him staring, but then he’d lifted his head and smiled at Gabriel and, uncertain how else to respond to the creepy guy who looked like he was planning on watching Gabriel read all night, he had hesitantly returned the smile and hoped he didn’t look too disturbed.

Wait… why was he getting up?

Crap, he was walking towards Gabriel. 

_No! Don’t pull out a chair!_

Gabriel tried to conceal how uncomfortable he was with the weird man sitting opposite him and he hoped the guy didn’t try to talk to him as he flicked through his book without reading the words.

“Apologies for staring. My name is Castiel. Castiel Novak.” 

Gabriel lifted his gaze from his book and frowned in confusion at the hand being offered to him.

Then his mind latched onto the name and he recalled his talk with Dean and their discussion about the guy he was interested in.

_Hmm..._

Gabriel plastered on a smirk and shook Castiel’s hand. “Gabriel,” he introduced. “Gabriel Milton. What can I do you for, Cas?”

A spark of recognition flared in Castiel’s gaze when he offered his name, but Gabriel didn’t have time to wonder about it because Castiel was speaking.

“I just wanted to say how sorry I am for what happened this afternoon. They had no right to do that to you and I hope they didn’t cause any harm?”

Gabriel clasped his hands together over the table. Castiel seemed like a genuine guy.

“Nah, nothing that can’t be fixed. Thanks for checking in on me though,” he winked, grinning brightly in a way that made Castiel’s smile widen a little.

Gabriel took a moment to glance over Castiel. The guy was handsome, that was for sure. He had captivating eyes and a bit of stubble that outlined his jaw and Gabriel just knew there was a fair bit of lean muscle hiding beneath that trench coat. He was smartly dressed too, in a crisp, white shirt, black trousers and shiny shoes. 

And that deep, gravelly voice… Gabriel could understand Dean’s interest in him.

…Well, since Dean had been so kind to him that afternoon, it couldn’t hurt to help him out a little, could it? Dean had to earn Castiel’s forgiveness, but would it really be so bad to give Castiel a little push in the right direction? Even if he was straight?

Gabriel closed his book over, gaze lowered.

“Castiel Novak… You’re Dean’s friend, right?” He commented casually. He looked up again with a charming grin. “Man, he just doesn’t stop talking about you. I feel like I already know you.”

Castiel blinked in surprise. “…He doesn’t?” He frowned in confusion. “We’re not really… friends…”

Gabriel shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Well, whatever you guys are, he loves talking about you. I mean, I spend a lot of time at his place with his little brother – teaching him how to cook, in case you get any unsavoury ideas,” he winked playfully, “and all Dean ever talks about is his conversations with you.” Gabriel shook his head with a chuckle. “I wish someone spoke about me the way Dean speaks about you. You must be something special to have changed him like this.”

Castiel cocked an eyebrow, taking the bait. “…What do you mean?”

Gabriel feigned a look of confusion. “Y’know… he’s different now. Ever since he started talking to you.”

Castiel looked puzzled. “Different?”

Gabriel blinked and leaned forwards as though surprised Castiel hadn’t noticed. Actually, he was kind of surprised Castiel hadn’t noticed the change in Dean because he wasn’t entirely lying about Dean’s sudden swing in behaviour.

“Well… his grades are creeping upwards now for one thing, because he’s studying a lot more. I don’t know what you said to him, but congratulations on actually getting through to him,” Gabriel shrugged. “Not to mention he doesn’t bring anyone back home with anymore. It looks like the days of him running a brothel are over thanks to you. Oh, and he’s actually started caring about people more now, even if he doesn’t say it.” Gabriel gestured to himself. “Case in point. Although, don’t tell him I said that because he’s still not quite confident with all that touchy-feely crap even if he’s a soft sap at heart,” Gabriel stage-whispered, just to give the tirade an extra layer of authenticity.

Castiel stared at Gabriel with an expression of barely concealed shock.

Gabriel smirked. “Once again, don’t know how you do it, but you bring out the Prince Charming in him. Smart, gorgeous, considerate and a great sense of humour… man, I wish he gave me half the attention he gives you. I swear he’s been plucked straight out of someone’s wet dream. Either that or Walt Disney hand crafted him himself.”

Castiel’s gaze slowly lowered to the table, contemplating, and Gabriel’s smirk grew wider as he mentally patted himself on the back for giving the other man something to think about.

Time to bring out the big guns.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I heard you couldn’t make it to the park the other day. He was wrecked when he came home. Looked like someone had taken a chainsaw to his puppy. He must have been really looking forward to chatting to you again.” Gabriel huffed out a soft, fond laugh. “Like I said; he must really like you. I’m sure you were busy though and you had something important to do, right?”

Gabriel stared at Castiel innocently and watched a flicker of guilt cross the other man’s face before he nodded slowly.

“…Um… yes. Important.”

Gabriel nodded as if he completely agreed. “That’s what I told him. I said: _‘Someone as thoughtful and caring as Castiel would never just ditch a friend like that. He’ll have something super important he’s forgotten about and he’ll get back to you as soon as he can.’_ ” Gabriel locked his fingers together. “It made him feel a little better, but I think he was still a little disappointed. Pouted all night. It was kinda cute.”

Castiel looked ashamed of himself for all of three seconds before his expression hardened and he straightened, frowning at Gabriel slightly.

“Dean Winchester is not as perfect as you believe him to be. He has hurt many people without regard for their emotional wellbeing and he frequently uses people without concern as to how it may affect them,” he stated firmly.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. “Like your friend, right? What was his name? Balthazar?” Gabriel sighed and shook his head. “He’s awful sorry about what he did. Wants to apologise but hasn’t found the courage for it yet. I have faith in him though.” He really did.

This time, there was a notable pause from Castiel as he stared at Gabriel, lips parted slightly in disbelief.

“…He told you about that?”

Gabriel didn’t want to lie about that in case Dean rounded on him later. Or worse, rounded on Sam for telling him.

So, he merely shrugged and remained silent.

Castiel’s lips drew into a thin line, brow creasing in the middle.

“He has a lot to make up for and I’m not convinced an apology is going to cut it.”

This time, it was Gabriel’s turn to frown and for once, he decided to speak sincerely.

“Maybe not, but it’s a start,” he said, glancing at Castiel pointedly. “Yes, he has a lot to make up for and a few words of apology isn’t going to magically make everything better, but at least he’s trying and he’s beginning to admit to his mistakes. An apology doesn’t mean anything if nobody’s willing to listen. Dean will think there’s no point in righting his wrongs if no one gives him a chance.”

Castiel looked conflicted but after a moment, he nodded hesitantly in agreement.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give him one chance,” he admitted quietly and Gabriel knew he’d won. Still, he had to keep up appearances.

“You’ve got nothing to lose anyway,” shrugged Gabriel. “Worst scenario is you part ways and never speak to him again. If it turns out he really is different, then you have a new friend.”

Castiel pulled a face that suggested he didn’t believe the latter was possible, but he nodded slowly.

“I will consider it providing he does apologise to Balthazar,” he said sternly. “If he can’t do that, then I see no reason to give him a chance.”

Gabriel’s smile faded slightly but he didn’t let his spirits drop too much. He’d given Dean an opening at least.

“Fair,” he hummed. “Although it may take him a while to scrape up the courage.”

Castiel leaned back in his chair. “I can wait.”

 

* * *

 

Sam was livid.

Gabriel watched in amusement as Sam prowled around the lounge like an angry cat with its back arched and fur on end, the younger man scowling and cursing his former friends fiercely. 

He’d picked Gabriel up from the library whilst he and Castiel had been in the middle of a conversation about today’s music lyrics versus lyrics from the sixties (Castiel was quite the talker once he got onto a subject he was passionate about and Gabriel found himself really enjoying the younger man’s company) and when he’d jumped into Sam’s car, he’d immediately been able to tell something was bothering Sam by the way his eyes were bright with fury and his face was pinched into poorly concealed wrath.

They’d managed the whole journey without incident and Gabriel had spoken of his meeting with Castiel and how much he had enjoyed conversing with him. Sam had offered very little input and Gabriel had watched his fuse burn shorter and shorter until they’d reached the suite and Dean had been waiting on the couch, flipping through channels idly until he saw Gabriel and cocked an eyebrow.

“You alright?” He’d asked softly, gaze raking over Gabriel’s form as though checking for any more soup mishaps and suddenly, Sam had exploded.

Now Gabriel and Dean were sat side by side on the couch, sharing chocolate as they watched Sam pace the room, ranting and clenching his fists as though he was considering running all the way to Azazel’s house just to punch him in the mouth.

“They’re a bunch of psychos,” snarled Sam. “As if threatening to drown you wasn’t bad enough, now they’re willing to burn your skin off! They’re sick in the head! What normal person throws boiling soup over someone? It’s demented!”

Dean popped a few Reese’s pieces into his mouth and handed the bag to Gabriel, who dipped his hand in with glee.

“And over what? You defending yourself? They insulted you and you insulted them back, so they think it’s alright to dump stuff on you?” 

Gabriel chewed happily on his candy. He’d explained to Dean earlier that day what had been said leading up to him being coated in soup and in turn, Dean must have told Sam about it.

“Actually, they started talking trash about you too and when I defended you, that’s when they got mad,” hummed Gabriel.

Sam paused and lifted an eyebrow. “What did they say?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Well, at first they were commenting on my clothes and lack of money and stuff; y’know, the usual. But when they realised it wasn’t getting too much of a rise out of me, they started talking about how you were a spoiled brat looking for attention. Said you were trying to parade me around like a charity case to make yourself look better and you’d leave me in the dirt once people started talking about how you're this amazing, considerate guy. They were convinced you’d go back to them once you got bored of pretending to be nice to me. Said you’d be begging for them to take you back.”

Sam looked at Gabriel oddly so Gabriel felt the need to continue.

“I told them to shove it. They were only dragging you down; holding you back. The reason people think you’re amazing and considerate is because you actually are or at least trying to be. I told them that’s why you’re better than them and always will be. I told them you’d finally worked out they were using you for money and that they were manipulating you in other ways, and now you’re glad you don’t speak to them anymore. They need you and it annoys them that you don’t need them at all.”

Gabriel grabbed another handful of candy. “Obviously, they didn’t take that too well, hence the soup.”

Sam blinked and even Dean was staring at Gabriel in surprise.

After a long, uncomfortable moment where Gabriel was wondering if he’d said the wrong thing, Sam finally licked his lips.

“You… you didn’t believe anything they said?” He asked quietly.

Gabriel frowned. “What? No. Why would I?”

Sam took a step towards Gabriel. “They said I was just pretending to be nice to you for the sake of my reputation and it never once crossed your mind to doubt me?”

Gabriel’s frown deepened. “No. It didn’t. Is there a reason it should have?”

Sam shook his head rapidly and a strange look crossed his face but it was gone before Gabriel could decipher it.

“Gabriel… I…” He swallowed and tried again. “Thank you. For not only defending me but also for having faith in me. I’ve never… No one has ever trusted me so implicitly before.”

Gabriel’s expression softened. “You’ve earned it, kiddo.” He meant it. Over the past couple of weeks, Sam had proved that he wasn’t the man Gabriel had originally believed him to be. He’d also shown that he was willing to change with the right sort of help.

Sam gazed at him in a way that had Gabriel’s rib cage pounding with butterflies and he coughed to distract himself.

“Okay, so now that’s out of the way… dinner?” Gabriel asked suddenly, standing from the couch and clasping his hands together.

A small smile pulled at Sam’s lips and Gabriel had a hard time ignoring it, even with Dean glancing warily between them both as if ready to bolt at any moment.

“Chili, anyone?” Asked Gabriel, dragging his gaze away from Sam’s perfect lips and long, silky hair built for burying fingers into.

“Sounds great,” said Dean when it was clear Sam wasn’t going to answer.

Gabriel turned towards the kitchen and ignored the thump and the indignant _“Ow!”_ that sounded behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all been asking for the Cas/Gabe meet! It's finally here!


	15. Chapter 15

From the corner of his eye, Castiel could see Dean sitting on the opposite side of the room, a troubled expression resting on his face as he alternated between glancing over at their table and returning his gaze to his own. After a long few minutes, Dean finally stood and edged towards them at an agonisingly slow pace, as though he wasn’t convinced he was taking the right course of action.

“Is everything alright, Castiel?” Gadreel asked, a concerned frown marring his features as Balthazar and Meg narrowed their eyes at him suspiciously.

Castiel elected to ignore Dean for the moment and returned his attention to his friends.

“Yes. Apologies. Where were we?”

“Movie night?” Huffed Meg, staring at him accusingly.

“Of course,” nodded Castiel. “Tomorrow, at my place?”

“Usual time?” Prompted Meg and Castiel nodded as Balthazar suddenly stiffened, his attention wholly on Dean, whom was standing a mere few feet away and sliding closer with every second.

“He’s not interested,” Balthazar snapped, muscles tense as Dean finally came to stand beside their table.

Dean startled and blinked at Balthazar before casting his gaze to Castiel for a moment and returning it to the irate Frenchman.

“I’m not here for him,” Dean said quietly.

Balthazar snorted and gazed coldly at him. “Gadreel has a girlfriend and Meg would never look at you twice.”

Meg nodded in firm agreement as Gadreel glowered at their unwanted guest.

Dean shook his head slowly. “…I’m not here for them either.”

Balthazar bristled. “You’ve got some nerve,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “The answer is no; I have no intention of hopping into bed with you. Now leave before I break your jaw.”

Dean hesitated, licking his lips as he eyed Balthazar’s tense form. Then he seemed to slump.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly.

Balthazar paused, confusion gracing his features. “Excuse me?”

It took a few moments for Dean to collect himself, but when he did, his voice was soft and sincere and full of regret.

“I’m sorry for using you. I’m sorry for hurting you, for making you believe that I…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence as he looked away. Emotional confessions weren’t his thing.

Balthazar froze, eyes wide and shocked as he gaped at Dean. Then he sobered.

“Whatever game you’re playing, it won’t work,” he growled, his hybrid accent a little thicker than usual.

Dean blinked and straightened. “I’m not playing any games,” he protested indignantly. “I… I’m trying to apologise.”

Balthazar stared at the taller man for a few seconds before crossing his arms with a deep scowl.

“Not interested. Leave.”

Dean bristled but quickly calmed himself again and closed his eyes.

“You have every right to hate me,” he began, “but at least give me a chance to apologise for what I did.”

Balthazar opened his mouth to scoff at Dean, but Castiel placed a hand on his arm; Gabriel’s words returning to him.

“Hear him out,” whispered Castiel, curiosity bubbling within him. He hadn’t expected Dean to ever live up to Gabriel’s apparent faith in him, yet here he was.

Balthazar stared at Castiel as though he’d announced he was into tentacle porn, before slowly returning his focus to Dean.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Dean gulped, briefly glancing to Castiel in appreciation, before giving his full attention to Balthazar.

“I should never have used you,” he said firmly. “I shouldn’t have let you believe there was something more between us when I didn’t… feel that way about you.” He licked his lips, the emotional conversation clearly making him uncomfortable. “There’s no excuse for what I did and it was cruel of me to treat you like that. I’m sorry.”

Balthazar’s scowl softened into a frown and when Dean didn’t offer anything else, the shorter man shook his head.

“What exactly is it you want me to say? Everything’s better now? I forgive you? Because it’s not and I don’t. I don’t know what response you were hoping for with this little stunt.”

Dean sagged a little. “Honestly, I don’t know what I was hoping for. Maybe for you to not hate me quite so much? For you to understand that I regret treating you like I did?” He pulled a face. “I’m not sure.”

The tension in Balthazar’s shoulders faded and when he next spoke, his voice was full of hurt and confusion.

“…Why did you do it?”

Here, Dean hesitated. He appeared to struggle for words before dropping his gaze with a weary sigh.

“’Cos I’m an asshole. I don’t care about other people’s emotions and I’m a selfish whore.”

The entire table blinked at the blunt, honest confession and Balthazar seemed at a loss for words.

Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets and refused to look at anyone as he shrugged awkwardly. 

“I just… thought I’d let you know.” He made to swivel on his heel, but Balthazar’s hand shot out and caught his arm. Surprised, Dean finally looked at him.

“I don’t forgive you, but it’s a start,” he said quietly, gaze hard.

Dean straightened. “Can I… can I make it up to you?” He asked tentatively, making the rest of the table balk.

Balthazar eyed him warily and shook his head. “I don’t trust you enough for that.” He let go of Dean’s arm. “You should work on the selfish whore thing.”

“I’m trying to,” Dean murmured sincerely.

For some reason, Castiel believed him.

Balthazar tilted his head contemplatively before nodding and turning away from Dean, signalling the end of the conversation. Dean was silent as he shuffled off towards the opposite side of the dining room.

“That was… out of character,” mumbled Gadreel with wide eyes as Balthazar remained oddly silent.

“Indeed,” hummed Castiel, gaze drifting to Dean as he picked up his laptop and vacated the dining hall, not a single friend in sight.

How strange.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel was miserable. His meeting with his tutor hadn’t gone well and despite his emphasis on him having no money to pay for more cooking equipment, his tutor had reiterated that he would face losing credits if he showed up once more with the incorrect supplies for his classes.

He’d told Sam as much when the younger man had asked about his sour expression and Gabriel’s ranting had earned him a silent car journey and a troubled-looking Sam. 

He pressed his head against the window and closed his eyes, just wishing for the day to be over already.

He must have dozed off because when he next opened his eyes, the car was parked and through his window he could see a busy mall. Confused, he sat up and turned to Sam, who was typing something out on his phone. He startled when he noticed Gabriel was staring at him.

“Oh! You’re awake! You might as well come with me, then.”

Gabriel frowned. “Where are we going?”

Sam turned his phone around so Gabriel could see the list of cooking equipment Sam had typed out – all the items Gabriel didn’t have. 

“Shopping,” Sam grinned.

Gabriel stared at him.

“And I know you hate me flashing my wealth around or whatever, but I just thought it would save you getting into trouble with the college and you won’t lose any credits,” shrugged Sam.

Gabriel continued to stare.

Sam shifted awkwardly. “I was going to grab them whilst you were asleep, but since you’re awake now, I thought you could help me find them? I’m not entirely sure what sizes you need and if you need any brand in particular…”

More staring.

Sam coughed uncomfortably. “…Say something.”

He jumped when Gabriel suddenly launched himself at him, drawing him into a tight, grateful hug as he buried his face into his chest and tried to hide how touched he was at the younger man’s thoughtfulness.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Slowly, Sam’s arms slipped around Gabriel’s body, holding him close as Sam rested his chin on the shorter man’s head.

The embrace was warm and relaxing and safe and Gabriel felt all the tension in his frame drain away. Sam smelled like chestnuts and cinnamon and Gabriel inhaled his scent deeply, closing his eyes in bliss.

He really wanted to kiss Sam.

He raised his eyebrows at the impulse and buried it deep down within himself.

Sam squeezed him a little tighter and Gabriel’s chest fluttered. Sam’s arms were strong around him and he felt protected; as though his crappy life couldn’t hurt him here. Nothing could because Sam was there.

He knew he should have pulled away from Sam at that point, but he couldn’t imagine breaking the embrace and being left cold and miserable again, so he ignored his logical side and savoured the moment. He felt Sam shift slightly and subtly tug him closer as he pressed his nose into Gabriel’s hair.

The butterflies in Gabriel’s chest pounded harder at his ribcage.

“Stay over tonight,” breathed Sam, sounding a little flustered.

Gabriel should have said no. This dance with Sam was getting too dangerous.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Sam swallowed and nuzzled gently at his hair.

“You can use my bed if you’d like. You must be tired of the couch.” A pause. “It’s big enough for two.”

Gabriel licked his lips. The couch was fine. It was far more comfortable than the sleeping bag on his hard floor at his own apartment. Sleeping in the same bed as Sam would be like playing with fire.

“You sure?” He murmured.

Sam stroked a thumb over his spine. “Yeah,” he croaked.

Gabriel could hear Sam’s heartbeat. It was quiet and reassuring.

After a few more seconds, they pulled apart, not quite looking at one another. They exited the car in silence and walked a little too close together as they made their way into the huge mall.

 

* * *

 

They left the mall three hours later with bright grins and too many bags.

“You shouldn’t have bought all that for me,” scolded Gabriel, but his smile betrayed his mood.

Sam shrugged. “You needed cooking equipment and clothes. I don’t see the problem.”

“Materialism,” sang Gabriel playfully, making Sam snort. 

“Since I already have the money, I might as well use it for something good.”

Gabriel paused. That was a unique way of looking at things.

“I’ll never be able to pay you back,” argued Gabriel. “I’ll be in your debt unless I actually make it as a chef.”

“As if you won’t,” scoffed Sam as though the idea of Gabriel not becoming a five-star chef was absurd. “And you’ve already paid me back enough these past few weeks. You’ve taught me how to be a better person. And how to cook.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Still. I feel like I should pay you back in actual cash.”

“Now who’s being materialistic?” Smirked Sam.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and was about to retort when a weak voice caught his attention. He looked down to find a homeless, older man staring up at him pleadingly, his clothes torn and ragged and his face pale and sickly as he leaned against a lamppost, away from the view of the security guards.

“Spare change?” The stranger begged, voice hoarse as he held his hand out. He looked cold.

Gabriel thrust a hand into his pocket and was dismayed to find a meagre two dollars and twenty cents. 

“It’s all I have,” Gabriel apologised as he handed the money over, but the man’s face lit up anyway and he grasped Gabriel’s hand in gratitude, fingers stiff and cool.

“It’ll keep me fed,” the man whispered. “Bless you.”

Gabriel’s heart ached for the man and he turned around to continue the journey to the car. Once they slid into the front seats, Sam frowned and glanced over at him.

“Why’d you give him anything? You don’t have any money yourself.”

Gabriel shrugged. He was learning to be patient with Sam's bluntness. “He needs it more than I do.”

Sam’s mouth drew downwards. “You know he’ll probably use it for drugs, right?”

Gabriel blinked, shocked. “Not everyone is dishonest, Sam,” he said, appalled. “Not everyone can afford a place to live. Some people in this world need a little help from others.”

Sam dropped his gaze to his lap, clearly puzzled.

“Mom and my friends always said the people who beg in the street use money for drugs and alcohol and that’s why they’re homeless. They said giving them money was just feeding their addiction.”

Gabriel grimaced. “ _Wow,_ okay. Whilst I’m sure there are people who use begging as a way to get those things, there are many homeless people in the world; genuine beggars who might not make it through a week if they aren’t shown a little kindness. Like that guy earlier. He wants some hot food and something to drink, not a bottle of whisky and half a pound of crack.”

Sam’s brows pinched together and he cast his gaze to the window. “…You think he might not make it through the week?”

Gabriel tilted his head. “I don’t know. Doesn’t look like he gets shown a lot of kindness. Looks kinda sick.”

“And you gave him your last scrap of cash because you think he needs it more than you do?” Sam asked quietly.

Gabriel nodded. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Sam glanced over at Gabriel, thoughtful and conflicted before returning to the window.

“That was selfless,” he said softly.

Gabriel quirked a small smile. Sam was learning how to look at the world more kindly every day.

He startled when Sam opened the door. “Where are you-?”

Too late. He was already jogging across the parking lot, towards the homeless man. 

Gabriel’s eyes bugged as he watched Sam hand over a note, the homeless man taking it gingerly. Then his eyes widened and his gaze snapped to Sam in evident shock and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he scrambled to stand (albeit shakily) and pumped Sam’s hand gratefully, refusing to let go.

Sam grinned and squeezed the man’s shoulder before making his way back to the car and Gabriel watched the man pick up a worn plastic bag full of his belongings and amble over to the mall happily, in search of food.

Sam climbed into the car again and started the engine.

“How much did you give him?” Gabriel asked curiously.

“A hundred dollars,” Sam shrugged. “Should be enough to keep him from going hungry over the next few days, right?”

Gabriel’s mouth opened and closed before he turned his attention to the windscreen and watched the sky beginning to darken, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

* * *

 

That night, Gabriel re-emerged from the bathroom and found Sam already tucked up in bed, taking care to stay on his own half of the mattress. 

Briefly, Gabriel wondered if he was making a mistake in sharing Sam’s bed but then the younger man lifted his head to look at Gabriel expectantly and any thoughts of retreating to the couch dissolved.

Already donning the new sleepwear Sam had bought him that afternoon, Gabriel padded to the other side of the bed and tried to ignore how Sam’s gaze was focused on him and his black pyjamas with a chibi _Avengers_ gang plastered over the shirt.

He risked a glance at the younger man to find an amused smile twitching his lips.

“You look adorable,” Sam teased and Gabriel huffed as he slid into bed, earlier tension vanishing.

“Shut up. You’re just jealous.”

Sam snorted and closed his eyes, seemingly unbothered by the fact he was sharing his bed with another guy who was eight years older than him.

“Who’s your favourite?” Asked Sam sleepily.

Gabriel glanced down at his shirt. “Loki.”

“Of course he is.”

Gabriel grinned. “He helps sometimes.”

“He’s a major villain.”

“He’s played by Tom Hiddleston. You can’t not love him.”

Sam smirked. “That’s true.”

“Who’s your favourite, kiddo?”

Sam’s expression softened. “…Thor?”

“Now I understand your long hair and super-muscles,” teased Gabriel.

Sam grunted and pulled the covers higher. It was rather cute.

Gabriel watched the younger man relax for a few moments, admiring his tanned skin and angular jaw and that soft, shiny hair he couldn’t stop thinking about recently, before switching the bedside lamp off and nestling down into the first bed he’d slept in since selling his rusty old caravan.

He rolled away from the younger man and closed his eyes, basking in the silky sheets and the soft pillows that smelled like Sam.

A few minutes later, as he was beginning to drift off, an arm tentatively slid around him and Gabriel was suddenly very awake as he listened to how Sam’s breathing wasn’t as deep as it had been a few moments earlier. In fact, it was almost as though he was holding his breath with how still and quiet he was.

Gulping noiselessly, Gabriel slowly edged backwards until his back hit a warm, solid chest and the arm around him tightened.

For a moment, neither of them moved, then Sam curled around Gabriel, spooning him as he buried his nose into the older man’s neck.

Gabriel felt himself relaxing, that sensation of safety washing over him again and he placed his hand over the one Sam had splayed over his stomach, lacing their fingers together.

“I really like it when you call me ‘kiddo’,” Sam whispered into the darkness and Gabriel felt his breath ghosting over his neck.

He licked his lips. “I feel safe when you hold me,” he confessed as quietly as he could.

He inhaled sharply when Sam’s other arm slithered around him and he was tugged tighter to a strong body. Sam carefully slid a leg over his and it was the most protective embrace Gabriel had ever experienced.

Instead of acknowledging the way his pulse had picked up and how his mind was conjuring up images of rolling over and claiming Sam’s perfect lips, Gabriel managed a quiet huff.

“You’re going to get a dead arm like that.”

Sam nuzzled his neck and Gabriel had to bite his tongue to stop himself from carrying through with his brain’s vivid imagery.

“Don’t care,” mumbled Sam, sounding a little breathless. “Like holding you.”

Gabriel closed his eyes as Sam continued nuzzling his neck lightly. He squeezed the younger man’s hand in encouragement.

“Thank you for today, kiddo,” Gabriel breathed.

He stilled when Sam gently pressed his lips to his shoulder, where his shirt had slipped down to reveal bare skin. They lingered there for a few seconds and when he pulled away, the wet sound of it was loud in the silent room.

“…You’re welcome,” Sam managed after a moment or so.

Gabriel’s heart thundered in his chest. He pulled Sam’s arm a little more securely around him.

It took a couple of minutes for Sam to carefully press his nose into the back of Gabriel’s neck again and when he did, Gabriel finally drifted off to sleep, safe and content.

 

* * *

 

As Castiel’s shadow landed over his table, Dean flicked his gaze up curiously, only to straighten at the sight of blue eyes and dark hair.

College was over for the day and most students had gone home for the evening, but Castiel had spotted Dean in the dining hall and had wondered what he was doing there alone.

And maybe he was slightly impressed by Dean’s apology earlier that afternoon.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Uh… hey. What are you doing here?”

Castiel stole a glance at Dean’s laptop and cocked an eyebrow at what was displayed there. _‘A Guide to Building Positive Relationships. Step 1: Remove all negative energy in your life and work towards becoming a more positive, calm force. Detox your body of stress and embrace the light of the world.’_

Dean slammed his laptop shut before Castiel could read any further.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Aren’t you supposed to be going home? Lectures are over,” Dean said.

A brief frown touched Castiel’s face before he focused on Dean. “Perhaps. That brings up the question of why you’re still here.”

Dean shrugged. “Got nothing better to do. Nowhere to be. It’s quiet in here. Peaceful.”

Castiel glanced at the laptop. “Or you don’t want anyone to catch you reading that crap.”

Dean grimaced. “That’s… not…” He trailed off, knowing full-well he couldn’t wheedle his way out of the observation. “I just thought it might be useful, okay?” He said defensively.

A tiny smile twitched Castiel’s lips. “Whilst your objective is admirable, the website you’re using is pure garbage.”

Dean sagged. “I was beginning to wonder that at ‘Step four’, where it said to throw out all technology and try to live a minimalistic lifestyle.”

Castiel chuckled. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

Dean sighed quietly and switched off his laptop before packing it away. Castiel watched him in silence, his amused expression fading. Dean looked… exhausted. Both physically and mentally. The skin below his eyes was dark and his gaze was dull and tired. His mouth was drawn downwards slightly and his frown lines were more prominent than usual. How had he missed that earlier today?

“…Is everything alright?” Castiel couldn’t help but ask.

Dean snapped his gaze up, clearly surprised. “Peachy. Why?”

Castiel shook his head. “You look…” He trailed off with a frown. “Where are your friends?” He asked instead because more than anything, Dean looked lonely and maybe that was why he was so drained.

The younger man shrugged. “We aren’t really talking at the moment.”

Castiel tilted his head. “Why not?”

Here, Dean’s expression soured at the edges. “Because of differences in opinion on when it’s appropriate to mock someone who’s being bullied.” 

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “You’re talking about Gabriel, right?”

Dean nodded grimly. “They didn’t like it when I stood up for him. I didn’t approve of them laughing at him. Now they refuse to talk to me and I can’t find it in myself to care.”

Castiel blinked. He was actually impressed. Dean was standing by his decision to do what was right despite peer pressure and the consequences of losing his friends. Maybe Gabriel had been right about him beginning to change.

…Which was why Dean was now having to google how to make friends.

Castiel glanced around the empty dining hall. Dean must have felt so alone in that moment.

The younger man straightened in confusion when Castiel slid into the chair beside him.

“I’m sorry for ditching you the other day,” Castiel offered softly, feeling rather guilty now he could see Dean really was trying to become a better person. “That was rude and cruel of me.”

Dean dropped his gaze to the table, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I probably deserved it,” he said without a trace of humour.

“No one deserves to be cast aside and treated like they don’t matter,” murmured Castiel and he watched Dean wince, head dropping lower.

“You mean like I did with Balthazar?” He asked bitterly. “Like I’ve done with countless people who thought there was _something more_ between us?” He sighed. “Now I spend my break periods alone, I’ve had time to think about all the people I’ve tossed aside without a thought. I was upset about you ditching me and we’re not even friends. Imagine what all those other people thought when they assumed I lo- ” He cut himself off with a rueful shake of his head. “How do I even go about fixing all that?”

Castiel regarded Dean carefully, taking in the bitterness of his gaze, the guilt knotted in his shoulders, how… defeated he looked.

“Get a drink with me and maybe we can come up with a solution,” Castiel stated quietly, making Dean stare at him, stunned.

He offered the younger man a smile. “It’s more productive than sitting in an empty dining hall, researching how to embrace _'the light of the world’_.”

Dean’s lips quirked upwards for a brief moment before they fell again and he shook his head.

“Is that such a good idea? I mean, every time I’m around you, something bad happens to you. You throw up, get drugged, I say something stupid or yell at you… I’m like a bad luck charm. You’d probably be better off avoiding me.”

Castiel frowned at the self-depreciative tone. He hadn’t realised Dean felt like that and he was beginning to wonder if Dean was falling into a depression.

“Life wouldn’t be worth living if we didn’t take a few risks once in a while,” Castiel hummed, making Dean arch an eyebrow. “Accompany me for a drink. I promise nothing will go wrong.”

Dean eyed him sceptically. “…You sure?”

Castiel nodded and stood, waiting for Dean to follow.

With a conflicted expression, Dean dragged himself to his feet.

 

* * *

 

The bar was filled with students, but it was cosy and well-lit and the booth offered some privacy to Dean and Castiel as they began their third round. 

It was late evening and Castiel was surprised to find himself really enjoying talking to Dean. The younger man had picked up considerably from his mood in the dining hall and his eyes were shining a little brighter now Castiel actually appeared interested in what he was saying. He smiled every so often too, mostly in response to Castiel’s smiles, but he seemed happier, so Castiel counted the trip a success.

“You can’t have hated her that much,” grinned Dean.

Castiel chuckled. “Everyone hated my piano teacher. When I went around to her house, I used to knock as quietly as I could so she couldn’t hear me. When she didn’t answer the door, I’d run back to my mom’s car and tell her she wasn’t in. After four weeks and an angry phone call from my teacher, my mom worked out what I was doing and marched up to the house with me. She’d bang on the door to make sure I had my lesson.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Why did you hate her so much?”

“She used to smack my wrists if my hands were too low on the keys,” snorted Castiel. “When I couldn’t keep time, she would slap my shoulder to the beat. She made me practice scales for forty minutes every lesson and she never started or finished on time. There was a queue of us waiting for our lessons because she ran over that much.”

Dean shook his head with a wide smile. “How old were you?”

“Eight!” Exclaimed Castiel, throwing his hands up and making Dean laugh. “I used to have nightmares about Wednesday afternoons and all my mom would say is _‘Don’t be childish, Castiel.’_ I was a child!”

Dean snickered. “I think I love your mom.”

Castiel couldn’t help but smile at that. “Hey, don’t take her side in this!”

Dean held his hands up placatingly before taking a swig of his drink.

“I bet after all that abuse, you’re a great pianist,” he teased.

Castiel shook his head. “I wish I was.”

“Everyone who’s amazing says that.”

Castiel snorted again. “Feel free to come to one of my orchestra rehearsals and watch me make a fool of myself.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Time and place?”

Castiel paused. He hadn’t expected Dean to actually take that as a real offer. He was rather flattered.

“Thursday, six p.m. in the Drinkward recital hall.”

Dean nodded and pulled out his phone, typing quickly before shoving it back into his pocket.

“Put it in my calendar,” he explained and Castiel found a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. He dropped his gaze to his beer.

“Want to share some nachos?” Asked Dean out of the blue and Castiel looked up to find the man scanning a menu. “Chicken or chili beef?”

It dawned on Castiel they hadn’t eaten since lunch; too busy enjoying one another’s company.

“Chicken,” said Castiel and Dean nodded and pulled out his wallet.

“Back in a sec,” he hummed before disappearing to the bar.

He returned a few moments later with some cutlery. 

“You promised me life advice,” Dean teased. “Enlighten me with some great wisdom.”

Castiel chuckled softly. “What would you like to know?”

“How do I stop being a dick?” Dean asked.

“Keep acting like you are currently with me,” Castiel replied smoothly without missing a beat.

Dean stopped and blinked at Castiel, obviously not expecting that response. Castiel decided to elaborate.

“You’re relaxed, playful, you’re smiling rather than smirking and you’re focused on the topic of conversation rather than trying to ‘score’. You’re not forcing yourself on anyone and you appear to be taking pleasure in our conversation rather than trying to flirt with me. I feel comfortable with you now, whereas in the past, I’ve been wary.”

A frown tugged on Dean’s brow. “Yeah but… what do I have to do so people will actually like me?”

Castiel felt a smile taking over his face. “Nothing, Dean. That’s the point. You don’t have to engage in great gestures to make people like you. Just smile and be nice to people. Talk to them and listen to what they have to say. Making friends isn’t that hard.” 

Dean’s frown deepened. “But… Alastair and Abaddon and all those guys… they said people get bored with talking. They want gifts and compliments and flirting. It’s how people know you’re into them.”

Castiel tilted his head. “Do you want a romantic or sexual relationship with every new person you meet? Do you place no value on friendship?”

Dean straightened. “What? No! I’m trying to stop all that. I want friends who don’t want to sleep with me. Friends who don’t laugh at and bully other people.” He scowled. “I want friends who don’t think I’m stupid and the only thing I’m useful for is sex.”

Castiel’s gaze softened. “Then ignore Alastair and Abaddon and those others who treat you like that. The way to find true friends is not through materialism and sexual gratification. Talk to people. Find out what they’re interested in. See if you have anything in common. You don’t have to have coitus with someone to make them care for you, just as not everyone you take to bed will be interested in your life. There are different sorts of relationships and friendships are one of the most valuable.”

Dean swirled his coke around his glass (no more beer for him considering he was driving). “What about the people I’ve already hurt?” He asked quietly. “How do I fix that?”

“That’s a little harder to solve,” sighed Castiel. “It depends on the person and whether they can find it in themselves to forgive you. But the first step is an apology. The rest is up to whether they’ll listen to you.”

“And Balthazar? Do you think he’ll listen?” Asked Dean tentatively. 

Castiel shrugged a shoulder apologetically. “I’m not entirely certain. But he seemed willing to give you a chance today.”

“You really care for him, don’t you?” Mumbled Dean. 

“I do,” agreed Castiel. “He’s my oldest friend, if not my closest.”

Dean smiled forlornly. “Is that why you ditched me at the park? ‘Cos of what I did to him?”

Castiel dropped his gaze and remained silent. He was beginning to feel more and more guilty about that, but he still wanted to stand by Balthazar.

“Cas… I’m sorry,” Dean said softly. “To both of you.”

“You didn’t do anything to- ”

“I upset your best friend and so I upset you. I’m sorry,” Dean said firmly, sincerely and Castiel was genuinely shocked by the admission.

Dean was learning quickly.

Castiel found he no longer wanted to correct Dean’s use of his nickname.

It was that moment that the food arrived and Castiel’s stomach rumbled in response, making Dean smirk knowingly at him.

They dug in to the huge portion of cheesy nachos, making good use of the sauces dolloped around the edges of the plate. Conversation turned to a lighter topic (when seven-year-old Dean had dressed up as Batman and jumped off a shed, breaking his arm) as they ate and once they were finished, Castiel was stuffed and desperate to pee.

“I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a minute,” Castiel promised. 

He slid out of the booth and headed to the restroom, noting how crowded the bar had become. He slipped into the men’s room and relief washed over him as he relieved his bladder.

He zipped himself up and washed his hands and exited the bathroom, only for the door to slam straight into an inebriated young woman who was standing right in front of it. She tumbled to the floor, spilling her drink all over herself and when he apologised and tried to pull her back to her feet, she swatted at him clumsily with an indignant (and slightly glazed) scowl.

“Asshole!” She slurred loudly. “How dare you hit me!”

Castiel frowned. “It was an accident, I promise.”

“Yeah right,” she growled. “Dan… Daniel! This guy just hit me!”

Castiel turned to find a man a few inches taller than him, with broad shoulders and far too many muscles stalking towards him, looking equally as drunk as his girlfriend.

Castiel quickly tried to escape, but the guy grabbed his collar and hauled him back again until Castiel could smell the stench of alcohol clinging to his breath.

“You think it’s funny to hit girls?” Daniel snarled and Castiel held his hands up and shook his head, stomach sinking.

“It was an accident. I was just leaving the restroom and she was in front of the door- ”

Suddenly, Castiel’s vision blacked out for a few seconds and his right eye began to throb. He staggered backwards, palm cupped over his eye and when he tried to open it, his vision was spotty and unfocused.

He gasped when Daniel grabbed his collar again and pulled his fist back for another powerful punch, but then Dean was slamming the larger man into a wall and taking a swing at his face.

Daniel seemed to sag, unsure what had happened and alcohol-addled brain unable to figure out why he was now pinned by a complete stranger, but he came to his senses after a moment and scowled before punching Dean in the stomach.

Dean grunted in pain and kicked the guy in the crotch, watching him buckle to the ground with a groan and when Daniel’s buddies turned to face him, finally figuring out there was something wrong, Dean smoothly tugged Castiel to his side and dragged him out of the building.

They piled into the Impala and locked the doors before Dean turned to Castiel and his face paled, eyes wide and mortified.

“Dude… your eye…”

Castiel gingerly touched the skin beneath his eye and hissed at the sharp pain. He imagined there was a large, black bruise encircling his eye, the eye itself red and bloodshot where blood vessels had popped from the force of the hit.

He cupped his hand over his eye protectively once more.

Dean looked wrecked.

“Cas… I’m so sorry. I should have been paying more attention. I should have stopped him. I should have been there- ”

“Dean, this isn’t your fault,” interrupted Castiel firmly. “And you did stop him. And you got me out of there.”

“I should have acted quicker. I should have seen- ”

 _“Dean!”_ Castiel said exasperatedly. “Stop. Thank you for rescuing me.”

Dean snapped his mouth shut and Castiel breathed out an amused laugh.

“Thank you,” he said again, just to make sure Dean understood him. “How’s your stomach?”

Dean shook his head. “Fine,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes. “I must be cursed or something. Every time I’m with you…”

A quiet laugh suddenly bubbled up from Castiel's throat. “There does seem to be a bit of a pattern,” he confessed with a grin.

Dean sunk into his seat miserably.

“I’ll take you home,” he sighed.

Castiel’s expression dimmed at Dean’s misery. He reached a hand out and placed it on Dean’s shoulder.

“I enjoyed myself tonight. Despite the black eye. Thank you for driving me.”

Dean paused and turned to Castiel sceptically, but upon seeing the older man’s fond smile, his lips quirked upwards hopefully.

“I kinda had fun too,” he mumbled before pulling onto the road.

The radio hummed softly in the background as they drove the twenty-minute journey to Castiel’s place and they lapsed into a comfortable silence until they came to a halt outside Castiel’s door.

“Thank you,” Castiel said and Dean nodded as the older man opened the door. Then, Castiel paused and turned back to Dean.

“…Coffee?” He asked.

Dean perked up. “You sure?”

Castiel shrugged. “You’re good company.”

Dean grinned and slid out of the car, following Castiel up to his house.

It was cottage-like with white walls and a grey slate roof and Dean couldn’t believe any regular student home would have a garden as pretty as that. 

They entered the house and were met with warm, wooden floors and rich, cosy furnishings. It wasn’t as big as the Winchester suite, but it was homely and looked lived-in and Dean wondered if Castiel shared the house with anyone else.

“My housemate, Crowley, is never here so you don’t need to tiptoe around,” Castiel said, as if reading his mind. He wandered into the living room, which contained two inviting red couches and a white wool rug as well as a TV and bookcase. 

“This is… nice,” Dean said, glancing around the tastefully decorated room. It was so different to his own suite, yet he liked it.

Castiel hummed. “It’s relaxing to come home to.” He gestured to the couch. “Take a seat. I’ll just grab some ice for…” He gestured to his bruised face. “Then I’ll make some coffee.”

Dean straightened. “I can make the coffee if you’d like?”

Castiel shrugged. “If you wish.”

They went about their respective tasks, moving around each other in the kitchen with ease and by the time Castiel had forced the ice cubes out of the freezer tray and wrapped them in what appeared to be an old duster, Dean had the coffees ready.

“Movie or music?” Asked Castiel as they returned to the living area and Dean eyed him contemplatively.

“Music?”

Castiel smiled. That meant Dean wanted to talk rather than sit in silence and watch TV. Phrased as a question, it also meant he wasn’t entirely certain about what Castiel’s eclectic music taste entailed.

“I do enjoy the likes of _Aerosmith_ and _Queen_ , if that’s what you’re worried about,” chuckled Castiel, looking rather strange with a yellow cloth packed with ice pressed against his right eye.

Dean brightened. “Classic rock?”

Castiel wandered over to an expensive-looking, polished record player. “It’s your favourite type of music, correct?”

“…You remembered,” murmured Dean before shaking his head. “That’s because it’s the best type of music,” he stated a little louder.

Castiel pulled a _Journey_ record out of its album sleeve and set it carefully onto the record player. As the introduction to _Don’t Stop Believin’_ poured through the large speakers at the back of the room, Dean sunk into the couch contentedly and Castiel gracefully took the seat beside him.

“How’s your eye?” Asked Dean concernedly and Castiel pulled a face.

“Pulsing a little, but I’ll live.”

Dean sipped at his coffee and Castiel felt himself relaxing.

“Thank you for dinner, Dean. That was kind of you.”

“Thought you didn’t like me paying for you?” Dean teased.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “It depends on the intentions behind the act.”

Dean’s smile softened. “Gotcha. No buying people’s affections.”

Castiel nodded. Maybe Dean had listened to him more than he’d originally assumed.

“So… what made you get this place?” Asked Dean curiously.

The next couple of hours were spent chatting and listening to music and Castiel could feel his eyelids growing heavier and heavier in the warmth of his cottage. Conversation began to dwindle and when the record player ran its last _Queen_ song, Castiel dozed off.

Dean studied him for a moment, gaze tracking over his peaceful features and the angry bruise encircling his eye, before he stood silently and grabbed the empty cups and Castiel’s discarded, soggy duster from off the floor. He washed the cups and set them on the drying rack before throwing the duster in the washing machine and grabbing some kitchen roll to clean up the puddle of water the melted ice had left in the living room.

Then, he crept upstairs to snag Castiel’s pillow and duvet from his bed (he assumed Castiel’s room was the one with the cute animal calendar and electric piano, rather than the one that was practically empty of all personal belongings save for a few business textbooks). He returned to the living room and laid the duvet over Castiel’s frame and cautiously slipped the pillow under his head, before sneaking out of the house and driving away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter because I wanted more of Dean and Cas ;) Hope you enjoyed and if you spot any mistakes, feel free to pop me a comment!
> 
> EDIT: Fixed the formatting! Don't know what was going on with those italics!


	16. Chapter 16

Sam was supposed to be reviewing some lecture material, but instead he was being mostly distracted by the food memes Gabriel kept sending him about the class’ progress with their wedding cakes.

 

Sam snorted loudly, making a few other students in the library glare at him. 

_**What was that last one even supposed to be?**_ He texted back. 

_A squirrel_

Sam laughed again, ignoring the angry stares he received. He placed the phone on his desk and focused on his lecture material; something about the cardiac cycle and capnographs.

“Crap, crap, crap!” 

Sam’s head snapped upwards at the flustered voice to find a young man juggling five heavy textbooks and his phone, before everything clattered to the floor and one book bounced off the man’s foot. He yelped and hopped backwards, dropping his phone in the process and he groaned as he watched the screen smash onto the floor, cracking it in several places.

Sam watched the man sigh and lean down to pick up his phone. He prodded at it a few times until it flared to life and he cursed again as he stared at something on its screen.

Sam stood and gingerly moved to aid the younger man in picking up his books. The guy was nearly a foot shorter than him with long black hair, a skinny frame and was clearly of Asian descent. 

“You alright?” Sam asked as he stacked the guy’s books and carefully handed them over, frowning as the books nearly covered the man’s face. He barely looked old enough to be in college.

“Uh… no, not really. I misread my timetable now I’m really late for my lecture, which started thirty minutes ago,” the guy sighed, still struggling to hold all the books.

Sam frowned and took the top three off him. “Just catch up on the lecture in your own time and attend the next lecture.” He stole a glance at the top book. _Human Pathology, Volume 2._

The man (boy?) shook his head rapidly. “No. Can’t do that. I’m so behind right now. I don’t understand anything and I really need to go to my lecture. I can’t afford to be missing lectures if I don’t understand the material.”

He heaved the two textbooks to his chest and tried to grab the ones Sam was holding.

“Are you a med student?” Asked Sam.

The guy paused. “Yeah. First year.”

Sam quirked a smile. “Second year,” he said, gesturing to himself. “Maybe I can help you out?” Guy looked like he could use some help. Or a therapist.

The guy eyed Sam suspiciously, so Sam shrugged.

“First year of college is tough. You never know how much of the lecture you’ll be tested on and you have no idea how to write efficient notes so you just write everything down. I can help you out with that stuff if you’d like? Name’s Sam Winchester.” He had nothing better to do this afternoon anyway.

The man frowned before his shoulders relaxed. “Kevin Tran,” he replied. “…You wouldn’t mind?”

Sam shook his head and lead him towards the table he’d been using. 

“No offense, Kevin, but you look really young to be at college. Mind me asking how old you are?” Sam hummed, just to make conversation.

“That’s ‘cos I am young to be at college. I skipped one grade in elementary school and another in high school. When I was sixteen, I applied for a music course, which displeased mother greatly because although she wanted me to learn cello, she doesn’t want me basing my career around it, so I only did a year of music before applying for med school at seventeen. I’m still seventeen,” Kevin rushed out as though he was in an intense interview.

Sam blinked and tried to process all that.

“Wait, you were sixteen when you started college?”

Kevin nodded nervously, as though Sam was going to bite him.

“That’s… really impressive,” said Sam, surprised. He’d always considered himself smart, so it was sobering to meet people like Kevin. Back when he was friends with Azazel, Ruby, Raphael and Bela, he’d always sneered at people like Kevin, or basically anyone more talented than him, because that’s what his friends had done. He’d always laughed when those sorts of people struggled at something he was good at or even failed in areas he wasn’t good at, because his friends had always said those sorts of people thought they were better than everyone else.

Now he no longer associated with his former friends, Sam realised how cruel and petty he had been. There would always be people in the world who were smarter or stronger or more handsome or more creative than him and he shouldn’t condemn them for their talents. Their talents should inspire him to improve his own skills, just as Gabriel’s culinary expertise had made him want to be a better cook.

Kevin snorted. “Yeah. Try telling my mother that.” He stacked the books on the table. “I’m free for the next two hours. Well, two and a half now, I suppose. Could I… could I ask you a few questions about first year stuff?”

Sam chuckled and returned to his seat. “Sure. I’ve got a few hours to kill.”

For the first time, Kevin offered him a shy smile. “Um… thanks.” 

“Kevin? Don’t you have lectures?” Came a third voice, sharp and accusing.

Kevin whipped around to face a redhead with pursed lips and an oversized Star Trek shirt burying her tiny body.

“Oh, Charlie! Uh… yeah, I was supposed to. I read my timetable wrong though and I missed it.” 

She rolled her eyes in amusement as Kevin flicked his gaze back to Sam before facing Charlie again.

“This is Sam. He’s a second-year med student. He says he’s gonna help me out with some lecture material.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes at Sam for a moment before grinning and holding her hand out.

“I’m Charlie Bradbury. IT wizard and sci-fi geek. I also serve as Kevin’s emotional support service human on most days.”

“Hey!”

“Deep breaths, Kev,” she teased. “Don’t make me lick your face.”

Kevin practically pouted and Sam found himself smiling in amusement as he shook her hand.

“Sam Winchester.”

Charlie scrunched her nose. “Winchester? Wait, isn’t your brother the dude who sleeps with like… everybody?”

Sam grimaced. “…He’s trying to break the habit.”

Charlie shrugged. “Good for him,” she hummed without further fuss, making Sam perk up and instantly take a liking to her. He hated people talking smack about his brother.

She pulled out the chair opposite Sam and Kevin. “Alright, smarty pants, teach us something doctor-y.”

Sam quirked an eyebrow. “Are you a med student too?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Programming. But I wanna learn something gross about the human body.”

Kevin huffed. “The human body is not gross.”

“It’s kinda gross.”

“Everything has its purpose.”

Sam chuckled. “The human body is a little gross,” he agreed, making Charlie whoop with glee despite the filthy glares from surrounding students. She held her hand out for Sam to high five.

Kevin sagged. “Great, now there’s two of you giving me migraines,” he grumbled, but he didn’t sound annoyed. 

Sam felt his spirits rising as Charlie stuck her tongue out at her friend.

“Alright, so, what is it you’re having trouble with?” Asked Sam when both younger students settled down.

Kevin reached into his bag and pulled out a large wad of paper covered in chaotic coloured ink, sticky notes, blu tack and strips of white tape. Kevin flicked through the notes hurriedly before coming to a section about ion channels and transport proteins. The page was packed with hand-drawn diagrams and unreadable scribbles that made Sam see spots.

“Can you explain neurone depolarisation?” Kevin begged.

Sam searched through his hard drive for his first-year notes and swivelled the laptop to face Kevin.

“Okay, we’ll start at sodium channels…”

 

* * *

 

Castiel had lost concentration with his work a couple of minutes ago when he’d spotted Dean deliberating over whether to make his way over. Eventually, the younger man tilted his chin and strode across the hall, unaware of Castiel’s gaze.

“Why’s he coming over here?” Grumbled Balthazar, narrowing his eyes at Dean as though he expected him to admit he was the one who had caused the extensive bruising on Castiel’s face, even though Castiel had assured his friends otherwise.

“Be civil,” Castiel warned quietly and Balthazar huffed and dropped his eyes to his sheet music.

“Uh… hey guys,” said Dean, looking more confident than he sounded.

Castiel glanced up from his work politely even as his friends eyed Dean suspiciously. He offered Dean an encouraging smile, which seemed to boost the younger man’s confidence.

“So, um… Sam and I are having a movie night at our place. We have snacks and drinks and stuff and I was wondering if you guys wanted to join?” Dean asked, looking hopeful.

Balthazar huffed. “Considering your usual ‘crew’, I’d rather not,” he muttered testily.

Castiel shot him a disapproving scowl as Dean deflated.

“We’d love to come,” Castiel corrected, gaze softening as he watched Dean’s face brighten once more.

“We would?” Asked Meg, shocked as Gadreel and Hannah looked at one another in surprise.

“Yes,” huffed Castiel as Balthazar crossed his arms.

“I have no intention of being in the same room as Gordon Walker or any of those creeps. In case you’ve forgotten, Cassie, they roofied you,” Balthazar bit out.

“Which is just one of the reasons I’m currently not speaking to any of them,” Dean interrupted before Castiel could respond.

Balthazar frowned at Dean questioningly and Dean’s brows folded downwards.

“I’m not speaking to those guys at the moment so they won’t be coming tonight,” he explained.

When Castiel’s friends still looked confused, Castiel jumped in.

“Remember when that table threw soup all over that poor guy the other day? The one Dean helped? Well, Gordon and the others thought it was funny. Dean didn’t approve. Not only that, but Dean has started to realise that the people he thought were his friends didn’t actually respect him. They used him when it suited them and acted friendly with him when he agreed with them, but the second he grew interested in college work and stopped agreeing with them when they mocked other people, sometimes even standing up for people like he did the other day, his so-called ‘friends’ lost interest in him.”

Castiel turned to Dean. “And I believe he’s lost interest in them.”

Dean nodded in agreement.

“I don’t want to have friends who don’t see anything wrong with drugging someone so they’ll have sex with them. I don’t want to have friends who laugh at people who are being bullied.” He averted his gaze. “I don’t want friends who think the only thing I’m useful for is a roll in the hay.”

Meg, Hannah and Gadreel’s gazes softened a little as a tiny, proud smile twitched Castiel’s lips.

Balthazar frowned. “Why the sudden change in heart? You’ve never cared before.”

Dean winced before sighing. “I… uh… I’ve never had Cas to knock some sense into me before.”

Balthazar glanced at Castiel, waiting for him to correct Dean’s use of his nickname, but when the correction never came, he frowned and turned his attention to Dean.

“You expect us to believe you’ve changed? You expect us to believe you’re nothing like your lying, manipulative, underhanded old self?” Balthazar snorted.

Dean dropped his gaze, courage vanishing.

“Well… no. I guess not. But… I am learning. I’m trying to be better… better than how I treated you.”

Balthazar paused, not expecting the sincere confession and underlying apology. A smirk twitched Castiel’s lips as he cast his gaze to Balthazar. Balthazar ignored it and frowned at Dean once more.

“Why do you want us to come?” He asked instead, because he didn’t know how else to reply.

Dean shrugged, eyes still not meeting anyone’s. “You’re Cas’ friends. You mean a lot to him and I thought it would be a good idea to invite you along instead of asking him alone.”

Balthazar narrowed his eyes. “If this is all a plot to entice Cassie into bed…”

Dean shook his head rapidly. “It’s not. I promise.”

Balthazar shot him a distrusting look, but Castiel quickly interrupted.

“What time would you like us around?”

“Oh, um… seven?” Dean blinked at the sudden acceptance. “You can have dinner at ours if you want. Gabe’s been talking about making tacos.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Gabe?”

Dean grinned a little sheepishly. “He practically lives at our place now. He’ll be watching the movie with us tonight.”

A smile stretched Castiel’s lips.

“Alright. See you at seven.”

Dean perked up and nodded. “Uh… okay. See you guys then.”

As Castiel watched Dean retreat, he thought about how he’d woken up that morning to find his duvet draped over him and his head propped up on a pillow and he realised he was genuinely looking forward to the night ahead.

“So… are we _actually_ going to Dean Winchester’s place tonight?” Asked Meg, nose wrinkled.

“Of course. We said we would,” Castiel replied, glancing at her reproachfully.

“You said we would,” grumbled Balthazar grumpily and Castiel’s mouth twitched downwards.

“At least give him a chance,” he sighed.

“Why should I?” Balthazar huffed petulantly and Castiel sympathised with his friend, but at the same time wanted to roll his eyes at his stubbornness.

“He’s trying to apologise. He’s trying to prove he can change. Isn’t that something we should commend him for?”

Balthazar didn’t answer, instead propping his head on one hand and fidgeting with his pencil. 

This time, Castiel did roll his eyes.

 

* * *

 

They watched the doorman warily as he eyed them with distaste. They weren’t sure what kind of place they were entering that required security on the door, but they were certain the building didn’t see a lot of students.

They stepped into the elevator and spotted the red button next to the floor number Dean had told them he lived on, and when they realised the lift had to be activated by a key if they wanted to reach that floor, they pressed the button and heard a buzz.

“Umm… it’s Castiel,” Cas said uncertainly as his friends glanced at each other. He couldn’t see a microphone anywhere and he wondered if he looked stupid talking to himself in the tiny room.

There was a crackle and a familiar voice poured out of the speakers.

“Cas! You came,” said Dean happily. “One sec.”

The lift suddenly lurched upwards and everyone startled, automatically reaching for the bars that lined the walls of the elevator.

There was a ding and the doors opened, revealing a finely decorated hallway with marble floors. The five stepped into it gingerly and gravitated towards the only other door on that floor.

Castiel rapped his knuckles on the door and it swung open to reveal a smiling Dean.

“Come in,” he grinned and Cas and his friends slipped inside the suite and gaped at its luxury.

“Living humbly, I see,” muttered Meg and Castiel elbowed her.

Dean must have heard the comment because his smile faltered and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Um… feel free to sit down or poke around… Sam and Gabe are in the kitchen, finishing up.”

At that, a blond head popped out of the kitchen to assess the new arrivals and his eyes lit up at the sight of Castiel.

“Ooo there’s five of them!” He ducked his head back into the kitchen and there was a series of bangs and odd shuffling as Gabriel chittered to Sam.

“See! Aren’t you glad I grated all that extra cheese?”

“I’m sure everyone will really appreciate putting on an extra ten pounds after tonight,” came the snorted reply from Sam.

“Shush. Just because you have an aversion to the awesome things in life, it doesn’t mean everyone else does.”

“I have an aversion to developing a tractor tire of fat around my middle from twenty pounds of cheese. I’m pretty sure the others will too.”

“Shut up. Everyone loves cheese.”

“Yeah… unless they’re lactose intolerant.”

A pause.

“Crap.”

Gabriel scuttled towards the door again and popped his head around it.

“Anyone lactose intolerant? Or have any allergies?”

“I have a peanut allergy,” piped up Castiel.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I’ll make sure not to grate any peanuts over the enchiladas.”

“You asked,” shrugged Castiel and Gabriel clicked his tongue.

“I’m vegan,” Meg said coolly and Gabriel’s eyes widened, face paling in horror.

Balthazar gently smacked the back of her head and a slow smirk spread across her face as she arched an eyebrow.

Gabriel blew out a breath of relief before pulling a face at her. “Don’t do that to me,” he huffed before ducking back into the kitchen, which was beginning to emanate a concoction of delicious, spicy smells that admittedly had Castiel and his friends’ mouths watering.

“Stop laughing,” they heard Gabriel grumble.

“That was priceless,” snickered Sam.

“This is why you guys are supposed to tell me about dietary requirements before you invite people over.”

“You say that like you’re our staff. You know you’re not actually our personal chef?”

“You pay staff. I’m more like your slave.” There was more banging and shuffling.

“You practically live here. Since you aren’t helping with the mortgage, you have to earn your keep somehow.” Sam’s voice was playful and teasing.

“Yes, master.”

Hannah giggled softly behind her hand and Gadreel smiled fondly at her, snaking his arm around her waist.

“I like him,” she whispered and Gadreel’s smile widened in amusement.

“That’s Gabe,” said Dean as he cast his gaze to Hannah. Then his lips quirked upwards into a sly smirk. “He’s my brother’s boyfriend.”

“No, he’s not!” Yelled Sam a little too quickly, making Dean grin.

“Then stop acting like a married couple!” Dean shouted back.

“To be fair, I wouldn’t say no,” teased Gabriel and the kitchen suddenly fell deathly quiet for a moment.

Dean cocked an eyebrow in confusion and Castiel and his friends glanced at each other for a long, silent minute before Gabriel scuttled out of the kitchen with a huge tray of enchiladas, his face tinged red and flustered. Sam followed him a few seconds later with a large salad bowl, also looking rather embarrassed. 

“I um… I thought you could take what you liked out of tray,” Gabriel explained, sounding far less confident than he had a few minutes ago. “So… sit down and dig in.”

Castiel shared a wary look with Balthazar before tentatively taking a seat at the dining table, which was already laid out with plates and cutlery. 

Dean glanced between his brother and Gabriel, noting how they were avoiding one another’s gazes. He clapped his hands together in an attempt to change the topic.

“Drinks? We have alcohol, pop, juice…?”

He took a round of drink orders and briefly wondered how he would carry them, when Sam slid towards him and offered to help. Dean wondered if it was just so he could avoid awkward eye contact with Gabriel.

They wandered into the kitchen, leaving Castiel and his friends alone with Gabriel.

“So, Gabriel,” Meg began and Castiel had the sinking feeling she was going to say something insensitive. “Are you the help?”

Gabriel’s brows creased downwards as Castiel closed his eyes wearily. He understood his friends didn’t trust the Winchesters, but was there any need to be rude to Gabriel?

“No,” Gabriel said simply before spooning some salad onto his plate.

Meg tilted her head. “You clearly cook for them and they’ve already insinuated you basically live here but don’t pay rent. So… do you clean for them too? Tidy up after them? You’re obviously working for them in some way.”

Gabriel’s frown deepened and Castiel wished Meg would just shut up, but she was sitting too far away for him to be able to kick her under the table.

“Like I said, they don’t pay me. So no, I’m not working for them,” Gabriel said calmly.

“But you can’t just be volunteering to cook for them,” Meg insisted. “They must be paying you back in other ways. Gifts? Funding you through college? Giving you a place to stay because you can’t afford a place of your own?”

She paused as Gabriel’s frown became a scowl and Castiel knew she was about to say something that would make Gabriel want to stab her.

“Wait… is one of them screwing you?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes dangerously. “No,” he growled. “I’m not the help and I don’t get paid in dick. Any other accusations? Want to hear my family issues? Bank details? Social security number?”

Meg opened her mouth to reply, but Castiel quickly interrupted. 

“I hardly think that will be necessary,” he said, shooting Meg a filthy glare, which she at least had the decency to look sheepish at. “We have no right to pry into your personal life and we’re immensely grateful for you taking time out of your busy schedule to cook us such an inviting meal. Thank you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel relaxed and that easy smile fell back into place.

“Smooth recovery,” he winked and Castiel’s lips twitched in amusement. 

“I’m glad you approve.”

“Ever thought about becoming a politician?”

It was at that moment that Sam and Dean returned with drinks, but before they could place the first ones down, Gabriel tutted.

“Serve drinks from the right, boys,” he hummed and both Sam and Dean rolled their eyes but did as ordered anyway.

Castiel and his friends shared glances of surprise, but didn’t comment.

“Sam asked me to teach him how to cook,” said Gabriel finally, when the Winchesters took their seats either side of him. He looked at Meg and she straightened a little. “I have no money and walls are a luxury in my apartment. I can’t afford to eat every day so Sam made me a deal: If I teach him how to cook, I would at least get one good meal every day where he would buy the food.” Gabriel glanced at Sam gratefully, previous awkwardness forgotten. “As time passed, the Winchesters also offered me a place to stay. They have since provided me with a hot shower, clothes, cleaning facilities and even cooking equipment I required to stay on my course. I’ll never be able to pay them back, so the least I can do is help around the suite a little.”

“Which we’ve already said you don’t need to do,” chided Dean.

“Advice which I’ll continue to ignore,” Gabriel retorted.

Meg hesitated, seemingly shocked. “So… they took you in because you’re… broke?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Pretty much.”

A flash of… _something_ crossed both Winchesters’ faces, but it was gone before anyone noticed.

“That doesn’t sound like Dean,” grumbled Balthazar under his breath. Castiel elbowed him.

“Don’t be too quick to judge Dean-o,” Gabriel said, a challenge in his eyes and it was at that point that Castiel realised Gabriel was protective over the Winchesters. The revelation that anyone was protective over the Winchester brothers was quite a shock.

Even Sam and Dean were staring at Gabriel as though they’d only just figured out the older man didn’t like people talking disdainfully about them.

Balthazar froze, surprised the older man had heard him and maybe a little stunned he had jumped to Dean’s defence. He frowned.

“…Well, with his reputation and his treatment of me, I didn’t expect him to-”

“You must be Balthazar,” Gabriel said, eyes twinkling in recognition and Balthazar snapped his mouth closed, suddenly wary.

“I am,” he said after a moment. “I take it Dean’s told you about me?”

“Not much,” Gabriel replied, making Castiel frown in confusion and Dean look up as he tried to remember mentioning Balthazar’s name to Gabriel. Sam found his enchilada very interesting in that moment.

“Fantastic,” drawled Balthazar. “Allow me to tell you a story.”

Castiel’s head whipped around to face his friend, eyes wide and pleading as Dean sunk lower in his seat. 

Gabriel merely raised an eyebrow, but there was a warning in his eyes which Balthazar stubbornly ignored.

“A little while ago, our host decided to play a game,” Balthazar started, accent growing thick as he stared at Dean in disgust. “The aim was to see how many different nationalities he could entice into bed. He kept a tally book of his conquests. My name was in the ‘French’ column.”

“Balthazar… I’m so sorry,” Dean murmured softly, but Balthazar merely snorted and continued.

“The sex was great. _‘Friends with benefits’_ , we agreed. However, after a few weeks, I realised Dean had become more than that. I was falling for him and there was nothing I could do to stop it, despite my best efforts. After nine weeks, I couldn’t take seeing him flirting with other people. I didn’t want other people using him as their pleasure doll and I certainly didn’t want to see him holding anyone else in his arms.”

“Balthazar,” Castiel hissed as Dean dropped his head in shame.

Balthazar ignored Cas, glaring bitterly at Dean. “After ten weeks I asked him to become exclusive. I told him how being around him made me feel. I told him how wanted he made me feel, how special. I told him how wonderful I thought he was, how I couldn’t stop thinking about him, how I could picture a life with him. To my delight, he revealed he felt the same way.”

Dean looked wrecked. “Balthazar… You have no idea how sorry I am… If there’s any way I can make it up to you- ”

“I began to fall for him even quicker in the next couple of weeks. He took me on dates and we spent our evenings watching movies and listening to music and chatting. He held me close during the night and I kissed him as though he was the only thing I needed to be happy. He made me feel unique, cherished… loved.”

Balthazar’s gaze turned cold and Dean couldn’t bring himself to look up.

“And two weeks later, I found his book and I realised I meant absolutely nothing to him. It had all been an act. A charade.”

Dean winced.

Balthazar leaned forwards, ignoring Castiel’s furious scowl. “So tell me, Dean… why should I believe a damn thing you say? Why should I trust this suspicious change of heart? Why should I give a crap about you or your apology?” He hissed before straightening again. “You don’t mean a thing to anybody. You’re just a number in somebody’s phone when they want a dick in their ass. That’s all you’re good for. It’s all you’ll ever be good for.”

“Balthazar!” Castiel snapped heatedly as Dean stared despondently at his lap. The rest of the table gaped at Balthazar, stunned at the nasty outburst, all except Gabriel, who merely continued chewing a bite of enchilada.

“If he doesn’t mean a thing to anybody, then why are you still hung up on him?” Gabriel asked once he’d swallowed.

Balthazar stiffened. “I’m not ‘hung up’ on him,” he growled.

Gabriel placed his knife and fork down and laced his fingers together, challenge dancing in his gaze.

“Then accept his apology and move on.”

“Why should I? If he treats people like filth, then I’m happy to return the favour,” snapped Balthazar.

“Then he clearly means something to you if he’s eliciting such an emotional response,” Gabriel hummed.

Balthazar bristled. “He means _nothing_ to me!”

“I think you’re lying.”

“He is nothing!”

“You’re clearly lying. If you have something to say to him, say it.”

“I have nothing to say to the man who treated me like shit!” Hissed Balthazar. “I have nothing to say to the man whose only talent sets him in good stead for becoming a street whore!”

Finally, Gabriel lost his temper.

“And I have no sympathy for the loudmouth who thinks he can come into my friend’s home to whine and bitch because he doesn’t have the courage to speak his mind!” Gabriel snarled, startling everyone as he glowered at Balthazar. “Now stop being a coward and say what you want to say before I drag your rude ass out of this suite myself!”

Balthazar clamped his mouth shut, glare hard and cold before his expression wavered and he slowly turned to face Dean.

“Why did you do it?” He whispered brokenly. “Please, just… just tell me why I wasn’t good enough for you. Tell me why I meant nothing more than a game to you. First Anna, then Cassie and next you… is there something wrong with me? Am I really that repulsive?”

Balthazar looked devastated and it took a moment for Sam, Gabriel and Dean to notice Castiel staring at Balthazar with wide eyes and an open mouth. Then the Frenchman’s words sunk in.

“Wait… You and Cas…” Dean trailed off, flicking his gaze rapidly between Castiel and Balthazar as he put two and two together.

“Anna wasn’t your fault,” said Castiel quietly. “And Balth… you must know I have never harboured any ill feelings towards you. Our separation was a mutual decision… there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Balthazar glanced at Castiel sadly and Castiel realised two things at once. One – Balthazar truly believed he was broken and somehow undeserving of a two-sided, romantic relationship. Two – their breakup possibly hadn’t been as clean as Castiel had believed.

He paled.

“…Our breakup was a mutual decision, wasn’t it?” He whispered.

“You weren’t happy with me,” mumbled Balthazar, unable to meet Cas’ gaze. “I wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Wait, was Dean your… rebound?” Blurted Meg.

Balthazar flinched and slowly nodded.

Dean looked incredibly guilty. “…You were still in love with Cas, so you came to me, looking for a distraction?”

“I thought no-strings-attached sex would clear my head,” Balthazar confessed bitterly. “I never expected to actually fall for you.”

“You finally got over Cas, only to fall for…” Dean trailed off with a gulp. “And I…”

“Yeah. Great timing,” huffed Balthazar. “Right when I was daring to hope maybe I could have something good, I find your stupid book.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Whispered Cas. “You never said anything…” He reached for Balthazar’s arm but stopped short at the other man’s wounded expression.

“You deserved better,” murmured Balthazar. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship because I couldn’t let go.” He closed his eyes defeatedly. “You can imagine my anger when I found out you were chumming around with Dean.”

Dean flinched as Castiel sagged.

“I never knew…” began Castiel but he cut himself off as a thought occurred to him. “Wait… when you moved out to California with me…”

Balthazar smiled sadly. “I wasn’t quite ready to let you walk out of my life after two years of dating.”

Castiel let his fingers curl gently around Balthazar’s arm. 

“There is nothing wrong with you, Balth. You’re such a wonderful person and anyone would be lucky to have you. I had always assumed our parting was a mutual decision, but I can see now that maybe I was wrong. I’m sorry for hurting you like that. I have always cared for you but I value you more as a friend than a lover and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Balthazar chuckled weakly. “I kinda guessed that by how our dates never really went anywhere in that last year. I’m grateful you felt comfortable around me but sometimes I think we felt a little too comfortable around each other. Especially when we started inviting friends around on date nights.”

Castiel quirked a smile. He couldn’t remember there being a point where their relationship had lost its passion, but he remembered how slow, heated make-out sessions on the couch had turned into the two of them sat beside one another, reading or watching TV. He remembered how hard, hot sex had become them falling asleep the second their heads hit the pillows, in one another’s arms mind you, but still, the excitement of romance had faded and vanished and Castiel hadn’t wanted a relationship like that. He’d thought Balthazar had felt the same way, but obviously he’d been wrong.

He must have been wearing a pitying expression because Balthazar suddenly snorted. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Cassie. I’m over you now. Just took me a while.”

“Still, for what it’s worth… I’m sorry I never noticed how upset you were,” Castiel offered, squeezing Balthazar’s arm softly. The man had always been good to him, even when they broke up.

“And I’m sorry for not caring even though I could see how upset you were,” Dean added quietly, making Balthazar lift an eyebrow. “I was an ass and what I did to you was unforgiveable. I should have put a stop to things the moment you told me how you felt, but I didn’t and you suffered the consequences. I wish I could make it up to you. I wish there was some way I could… take it all back.”

Dean sounded ashamed and disgusted with himself and that was the first time Balthazar felt himself beginning to relax. He knew emotions didn’t come easy to Dean (he had dated the man after all), so this was quite a leap forward for him.

It took a moment for Dean to collect himself and when he finally did, he looked up and stared Balthazar straight in the eye, swallowing thickly.

“Cas is right. Anyone would be lucky to have you. I don’t know why you think there’s something wrong with you because you must be one of the nicest guys out there and trust me, I’ve screwed ‘em all.” He tried to crack a smile but it came across as more of a guilty grimace. “Honestly… I don’t know why I’m so cruel to people, because everyone knows I hate people treating me the way I treat them. I couldn’t even take Cas ditching me at the park and after all the passes I’ve made at him, it was well-deserved. I like to blame my lifestyle on my dad, but it’s not entirely his fault, is it? I make my own decisions and look where it’s gotten me,” he said miserably. “Friends who drug people and a reputation that my only talent is for sex. I push all the good guys like you away and keep all the ones who use and ridicule me.”

He shook his head bitterly. “Really, I think you’ve dodged a bullet, Balthazar. You’re right, people only contact me when they want a dick in their ass. You can do better than that. You deserve better than that.”

The rest of the table gaped at Dean, even Sam, who knew the extent of Dean’s daddy issues. He’d never heard his big brother open up like that before.

After a couple of silent minutes, Balthazar tilted his head.

“…Maybe I was a little harsh,” he admitted quietly.

Dean snapped his gaze up again in query.

“Cas was right about you trying to change. I’ve just been too stubborn to see it, I suppose,” Balthazar offered.

Dean straightened. “You had good reason.”

“Still, you’re trying and I should be commending you, not condemning you. My comments were rude and unnecessary – my apologies.”

There was a pause as Dean and Balthazar stared at one another awkwardly. Then Dean cleared his throat.

“Maybe we could start again?” He asked hopefully. “New beginning and all that? This time, I won’t be a dick? If I am, you have full permission to punch me.”

Balthazar’s lips twitched in amusement. “ _Bonsoir_ , je m’appelle Balthazar.” 

Dean grinned. The Frenchman had introduced himself in the same way the first time they’d met.

“Dean,” he smirked, offering a lazy wave since he couldn’t shake Balthazar’s hand from this far down the table. “Pleasure to meet you, Balthy.”

“I’m going to hold you to the punching thing,” Balthazar commented as he finally cut into his enchiladas.

Dean huffed out a laugh. 

“Well, that wasn’t the most awkward conversation I’ve ever witnessed,” said Meg, voice trailing off into a groan as she took the first bite of her enchilada. “Okay, how are these so good?”

Gabriel smirked but said nothing as Castiel and his friends began to murmur about how great the food tasted.

“One thing I’m confused about,” frowned Sam when everyone quieted, “is Cas.” He turned to the older man. “I thought you were straight, man?”

“Yeah, me too,” piped up Dean. “’S what you told me.”

Castiel shook his head. “I never told you anything, Dean. You merely assumed.”

“But… you like girls,” Dean said. “And I thought you were one of those guys who were saving themselves for marriage? Keeping yourself pure and all that?”

Balthazar choked on a piece of chicken and Castiel smirked slyly.

“If I was you, I’d check your sources.”

Dean blinked and turned to his brother, whose cheeks had flushed pink.

“Umm…” Sam said elegantly.

“I can’t believe I just heard ‘Cas’ and ‘pure’ in the same sentence,” commented Balthazar. “I get he doesn’t flash his sexuality around but ‘pure’…? Cassie's quite adventurous in the bedroom.”

“TMI,” Meg huffed, wrinkling her nose.

Dean glared at his brother and Sam stuffed some enchilada in his mouth.

“It’s always the quiet ones,” hummed Gabriel.

They settled into a comfortable silence as they ate, but it wasn’t long before Meg flicked her gaze up to Balthazar.

“So… who’s Anna?”

Cas’ expression darkened as Balthazar snorted.

“An ex,” he shrugged, biting back a chuckle at Castiel’s sour face.

“A cheating, lying scumbag of an ex,” he growled.

“Woah, down boy,” grinned Balthazar.

Gadreel tilted his head. “She cheated on you?”

“Multiple times,” confirmed Balthazar, popping a tomato into his mouth. “With multiple men.”

Hannah’s expression softened. “That’s horrible.”

“That’s not the worst part,” growled Castiel, like a dog with raised hackles. “They’d been going steady for three years and were engaged. Balthazar came home to find her in bed with not one, but _two_ men.”

“The guys didn’t know she was engaged, mind you. She’d taken her ring off,” hummed Balthazar. He chewed some chicken.

Gadreel stiffened as Hannah placed a hand over her mouth in shock. Even Meg looked stunned.

“You don’t seem too broken up about it,” observed Sam.

Balthazar shrugged. “At the time, I was devastated. She made me get out of the apartment even though she was at fault and being a poor student, I didn’t even think about court. I was too stunned to really fight for anything and too heartbroken to talk to anyone about it. That’s around the time Cassie and I grew close. He offered me a room and an ear and he forced me to get up in the mornings. Forced me to keep going into college and he got me through a difficult time. The more I told him, the more furious he got at Anna and I suppose that’s why I can talk about her now and know that none of it was my fault. She chose to cheat despite her assuring me everything between us was fine and Cassie helped me see that.”

“She kicked you out of your digs? Man, that’s harsh,” scowled Dean.

“Turned out she just wanted the apartment. She was a broke student too and she couldn’t afford rent for her own place, so she took mine instead. Her parting remark was something along the lines of she only wanted me for the furniture I came with and the sex wasn’t all that great anyway.”

Castiel growled softly, making Balthazar chuckle and pat him on the shoulder.

“She sounds like a real bitch,” huffed Hannah, prompting everyone to stare at her in surprise. She always seemed so prim and proper, coming from an upper-class family. It was startling to hear her curse.

She wedged herself into Gadreel’s side a little possessively and squeezed his hand, making him quirk a smile.

Balthazar lifted an eyebrow. “I see Hannah’s slowly lowering herself to your standards, Gadreel,” he teased, making the other man flip him off.

Far too used to Balthazar and Gadreel’s bickering, Castiel turned to the Winchesters and Gabriel.

“Are you going to give us a tour of the place after dinner?” He asked curiously, holding back a smile when the Winchesters straightened, obviously a little house-proud.

“I feel like you’ll need to draw us a map,” commented Meg, glancing up to the second floor and its glass railings.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” shrugged Dean. “We can watch the movie later if you want to poke around.”

Castiel smiled and returned to his dinner.

 

* * *

 

After the tour, they settled on some sort of horror film that claimed to have fantastic special effects.

Castiel wasn’t sure what he had expected out of the movie night but it definitely wasn’t this.

The lights were dimmed and there were bowls of popcorn and chocolate perched on the floor or on the arms of the couches.

Hannah and Gadreel were on the floor, snuggled up together under a blanket the Winchesters had provided. Gabriel and Sam were beside one another on one couch, with Meg seated next to Gabriel, and Castiel had somehow found himself between Balthazar and Dean, cushions strewn around them like a nest and a large fluffy blanket draped over their legs, similar to the one draped over Sam, Gabriel and Meg.

The movie had a poor plot line as most horrors did and they spent a fair bit of time laughing and pointing out smoke machines and zips in the backs of the monsters’ costumes. However, there were a few good jump scares and Castiel found he was genuinely enjoying himself, despite not having expected to.

When the movie was over, Dean loaded up the sequel, which made everyone groan even though they really wanted to watch it and when that one finished, the treat bowls long since empty, Castiel and his friends found themselves reluctant to leave.

So, Sam put on some music as an excuse to talk a little longer.

By one a.m., Hannah and Gadreel were asleep under the blanket, tucked into one another’s arms. Sam had dozed off on Gabriel’s shoulder, mouth open and Gabriel was chatting softly to Meg, being careful not to disturb the younger man.

Castiel’s eyelids were growing heavy, but he forced himself to stay upright even though Balthazar was leaning on him, too tired to support his own weight despite being awake. Dean had his arm on the back of the couch behind them, blinking slower and slower as sleep pulled at his consciousness.

Finally, Castiel gave in and slumped against Dean, letting the younger man take his weight.

“Thanks for cleaning up yesterday,” Castiel yawned quietly, making Dean blink owlishly at him before the memory came to him.

“No problem,” he mumbled.

“And thank you for bringing the pillow and duvet downstairs,” Castiel murmured, eyes slipping shut. This was nice. Warm. 

“Didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable,” Dean muttered as he dropped his arm to Castiel’s shoulder.

Balthazar shifted against Castiel and Dean raised his hand again, allowing the other man to get comfortable before he slid his arm around both of them.

Balthazar’s eyes closed again. “Yesterday?” He hummed curiously.

“Dean took me home after I got beaten up,” mumbled Cas. “I woke up on the couch, lying on a pillow, with a duvet tucked around me.”

“That was nice of him,” said Balthazar, sleep beginning to claim him.

Castiel hummed in agreement. Dean smelled so good. Like whisky and old leather. He could fall asleep like this more often.

But he shouldn’t fall asleep. He was supposed to be driving everyone home.

He sighed and nudged Balthazar, his friend grumbling tiredly. “Come on, Balth. We need to go.”

Balthazar scowled and tried to cuddle into Cas once more. _“Non,”_ he huffed, accent thick.

“Balthazar, please,” Castiel sighed again. “I have to drive everyone home.”

“That’ll take at least an hour,” huffed Dean, placing a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Crash at ours. That way you won’t be getting less than five hours sleep.”

“I’m fine with that,” Meg piped up before glancing to the slumbering Gadreel and Hannah. “And they seem pretty comfortable.”

“You can shower in the morning if you want,” murmured Dean. “We’ll make you breakfast before class.”

“Deal,” huffed Balthazar and when he wrapped his arms around Castiel and dozed off on his shoulder, Cas knew he’d been beaten.

“Okay,” he said, relieved and plopped back down onto Dean’s chest.

The younger man chuckled quietly and shifted until he was lying on his back, stretched out on the couch. Castiel wondered if he would move in a few moments and retire to bed, but when he didn’t, Cas rested his head on Dean’s chest and smiled in amusement when he felt Balthazar wriggle until he was also lying on his side, resting against Dean’s chest as he tucked himself into Castiel’s body. He would throw a fit when he woke up in the morning and saw he’d been lying on Dean.

Uncaring, Cas closed his eyes and bit back another smile when Dean’s arms slid around both him and Balthazar.

Okay, that was pretty cute. Clearly, Dean was more exhausted than he’d first thought because there was no way either Balthazar or Dean would be cuddling if they were fully awake.

Castiel found himself too sleepy to point it out.

He thought he heard a soft click but he wasn’t sure what it was, so he wrapped his arms around Balthazar and drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the missed update on Wednesday! I've had rehearsals and concerts on all week! Thought I'd give you an extra long chapter to make up for it ;)


	17. Chapter 17

The yelling woke them up. Gabriel had been having a nice dream before an indignant shout and some cackling catapulted him into the land of consciousness. 

He and Sam had migrated into the younger Winchester’s bed at some point through the night to allow Meg to stretch out over the couch and Gabriel now found himself curled into Sam’s chest, the younger man’s arms wrapped tightly around him and his head resting on top of Gabriel’s. It was definitely in Gabriel’s list of top three positions to wake up in.

The yelling continued downstairs and Sam grumbled softly and tugged Gabriel a little closer, pressing his nose into golden hair in an attempt to block out the annoying sounds.

A smile crawled over Gabriel’s face and he closed his eyes again and slipped his arms around Sam, sighing happily. He could definitely get used to waking up like this. He felt content, at peace in Sam’s arms.

“Morning,” whispered Sam, nuzzling into his hair sleepily.

“Good morning, kiddo,” Gabriel murmured back, voice muffled by Sam’s shirt. He felt Sam smile into his hair.

“You working today?” Sam asked softly and Gabriel made a quiet noise in the negative.

“Good,” the younger man mumbled, probably without meaning to as he squeezed Gabriel gently.

Gabriel briefly wondered what Sam’s lips tasted like.

“When do your lectures start?” He asked instead, subtly inhaling Sam’s inviting scent and maybe wedging his nose a little too deep into the younger man’s chest.

“I have labs, so I only go in for two.”

A hand tentatively rode up into Gabriel’s hair, stroking it gently and making Gabriel lean into the touch.

Another round of yelling from downstairs. 

Sam sighed and slowly began to recoil from Gabriel, making the older man bite back a whine.

“We should find out what’s going on,” he said, beginning to roll out of bed.

Gabriel watched him stand and stretch the kinks out of his broad back. He let his gaze linger on the way Sam’s pyjamas hugged the smooth muscles of his chest before admiring the flex of his arms and how the muscles shifted and moved beneath his tanned skin. Sam had a scruffy shadow outlining his jaw and the bedhead made Gabriel’s fingers itch to comb through those long locks of silky hair. He would never get over how gorgeous Sam Winchester was.

Sam disappeared into the bathroom to presumably brush his teeth and shave and Gabriel wasn’t strong enough to turn his gaze away from the man’s ass as he strode across the room. Sam had such a great ass.

As the door closed, Gabriel stretched and threw the covers off his body. He already missed being wrapped in Sam’s arms.

The younger man re-emerged a few minutes later, still in his sleepwear, but looking clean-shaven and less like he’d been dead to the world for the past seven hours. Gabriel slid into the bathroom after him and was completely oblivious to the way Sam’s gaze slowly traced his body before landing on his ass. He also missed how Sam licked his lips nervously before busying himself with making the bed.

Once Gabriel returned from relieving his bladder, brushing his teeth and shaving his own scruff, he and Sam stared at each other for a little too long, something warm and excited building in Gabriel’s stomach, before Sam cleared his throat quietly and gestured to the door.

They trudged downstairs, grimacing at the sudden loudness of the yelling and when they were half way down the steps, they could see Dean and Balthazar cornering a cackling Meg, phone clenched in her hand as their other friends watched on in mild amusement.

“Delete it,” growled Balthazar and Meg shook her head with a smirk. She jerked out of the way when Balthazar made a grab for her phone and rushed to hide behind Castiel, whose eyes were twinkling with silent laughter.

“Meg, delete that picture,” hissed Balthazar.

Meg shook her head again. “You can have a copy when your birthday rolls around.”

Dean made a half-hearted grab for her, but he seemed rather amused over whatever was happening and she dodged him easily.

Balthazar narrowed his eyes at Dean, sensing the other man clearly wasn’t as upset as what his previous yelling had implied.

“This doesn’t bother you?” He demanded.

Dean shrugged, a smile on his lips. “It’s just a picture.” 

Balthazar huffed and tried to snatch Meg’s phone again, to no avail. “Of me, you and Castiel cuddling in our sleep.”

Castiel bit back a laugh at his friend’s indignant tone and Dean shrugged lopsidedly. 

“It was innocent enough. We were tired.”

Balthazar deflated, obviously disappointed Dean wasn’t as worked up about the picture as he was.

“We were _cuddling_ ,” he reiterated slowly, as though that would change Dean’s view.

“It’s kinda funny,” admitted Dean.

Balthazar sagged.

“Aww… you guys look so adorable together,” teased Meg, staring at the picture on her phone.

Balthazar lunged for her and they wrestled for a few moments before Meg escaped once more.

Admitting defeat, Balthazar crossed his arms moodily. Meg snapped another picture of him.

Gabriel chuckled at the memory of Meg taking the picture the previous night and he followed Sam the rest of the way down the stairs. She’d also taken a picture of Sam drooling on Gabriel’s shoulder during his sleep and Gabriel planned on revealing it on Sam’s next birthday, enlarged and framed.

“Does everyone like waffles?” Gabriel asked as he shuffled into the kitchen and he was answered by a chorus of agreement. 

Sam plodded in after him once he’d received some coffee orders and together, they set off making the batter and preheating the waffle iron. Sam began rummaging around for fruits and syrup as Gabriel beat some eggs and they moved around one another easily, not having to speak to know what the other was doing or needed. As Gabriel poured some of the waffle mixture into the iron, Sam retrieved plates and cutlery. Gabriel flipped the first waffle onto a plate and Sam refilled the iron, watching Gabriel fondly as the older man spooned fruit onto the first plate.

When Sam transferred the next waffle onto the second plate, Gabriel couldn’t help but brush past him on his way to the iron. He thought he felt Sam gently touch his back as he passed but he couldn’t be sure, so he said nothing as Sam added fruit to the second plate.

The cycle continued with them switching places with every finished waffle and by the time they reached their last plate, Gabriel knew for certain that Sam was smoothing a hand down his back when he passed, just as Sam was certain Gabriel was leaning into his touch, despite there being plenty of room for them to move around each other in the kitchen.

“Drink?” Sam asked.

Gabriel nodded and Sam strode over to the cupboard Gabriel was in front of. Gabriel had no intention of moving and Sam boldly placed a hand on his shoulder as he leaned up to open the cupboard, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was tall enough to not have to use Gabriel as a support to reach the handle.

Sam grabbed some mugs and Gabriel’s lips pulled into a smile when he felt the younger man’s thumb rubbing over his shoulder. He rather liked this game.

Once Sam had found enough mugs, Gabriel placed a hand on Sam’s hip, squeezing it gently in silent askance for him to shift out of the way so he could unplug the waffle iron. Sam moved slowly, fingers skating from Gabriel’s shoulder down his arm as though he hadn’t been aware of what his own hand was doing.

Gabriel made his way over to the iron and watched Sam spoon coffee into the mugs. After he’d poured milk into some of the mugs, he ambled over to the sink, making good use of the boiling water faucet Gabriel adored. Gabriel moved to grab the remaining mugs and smirked at the excuse to run his hand over Sam’s waist as he brushed past him.

He missed the appreciative glance Sam shot him as he picked up the mugs.

Sam retreated from the sink and was about to return to the living area with his four coffees, but barely made it two steps before Gabriel boldly slapped his ass.

Sam flushed pink and laughter bubbled up from Gabriel’s throat.

“I win,” he winked before he set about filling the remaining mugs with hot water.

He missed Sam’s soft smile.

He returned to the living room and Gabriel heard him ordering people to grab their waffles and drown them in whatever syrups and sauces they wished.

Gabriel joined him quickly and handed out the rest of the coffees and they watched as their guests disappeared into the kitchen to grab food.

“Do you have anywhere to be tonight?” Asked Sam conversationally and Gabriel shot him an amused look.

“Yeah. I have to go to this annoying kid’s house to teach him how to cook. He’s getting pretty good at it now, mind you.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Is there any way you can get out of it?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Depends whether he’ll let me skip for a night. His brother probably won’t be too pleased if he misses a meal either.”

“Dean can cook for himself,” snorted Sam. “So, do you think you’ll be free tonight?”

Gabriel cocked a curious eyebrow. “Maybe. What did you have in mind?”

Sam hesitated for a moment before licking his lips and turning to face Gabriel.

“I was thinking I could take you on a date?”

Gabriel froze, eyes wide for a moment before his brows furrowed in confusion.

“You mean… like a movie date or something?”

Sam shook his head and after a surge of courage, he carefully took both of Gabriel’s hands in his and swallowed. 

“I mean like a real date. I take you out for dinner, we talk, we listen to some live music, we come home and then we get to cuddle in bed.”

Gabriel’s mouth fell open as people began to filter back into the living room. Unable to form any words, Gabriel laced his fingers with Sam’s and dragged him into the gym, shutting the door behind them so they wouldn’t be disturbed.

“You want to take me on a date?” Gabriel whispered in disbelief.

Sam glanced down at their still-connected hands. He was quiet for almost an entire minute before finally gathering enough confidence to respond.

“I really like you, Gabe. I was hoping we wouldn’t only stop at one date.”

Gabriel didn’t realise he was grinning until Sam risked a glance up at him and a shy smile broke out over his face.

“I should warn you… I don’t put out on the first date,” Gabriel teased in a way that made Sam think that was entirely a lie.

Sam tangled their free hands together. “I was hoping we could go slow. Do this properly.”

Gabriel’s gaze softened and his chest ignited with warmth and fondness for the man in front of him. He’d never felt this attracted to anyone before. He wholeheartedly agreed with Sam’s comment about them not stopping at one date.

“I take it this isn’t a 'blow your load and hit the road' kind of relationship?”

A surprised laugh burst out from Sam’s throat before he shook his head and squeezed Gabriel’s hands gently. 

“Definitely not. I was hoping we could maybe be a little more… serious? Exclusive.”

Gabriel could barely breathe. Was he dreaming? Was this really happening? Did Sam want an actual relationship with him?

“I’m up for that,” Gabriel whispered, reaching up to brush his fingers over Sam’s cheek, just to make sure this was real. He restrained himself before he made contact and let out a shaky breath when Sam caught his fingers and pressed his lips to them.

“…So, is that a yes for tonight?” Asked Sam hopefully. 

Gabriel grinned and dropped his hand into Sam’s once more.

“I can’t wait.”

Sam beamed at him and they re-entered the living room, holding hands with smiles lighting their faces. Dean tilted his head at them but said nothing as he returned to his conversation with Castiel.

They ducked into the kitchen to find their waffles.

 

* * *

 

Today was Thursday and Dean had set a reminder on his phone for the date because Castiel had orchestra practise after lectures. Dean was actually looking forward to hearing Castiel play. He wondered if he was any good and ultimately decided he must be because Castiel seemed to master everything he set his mind to; it was one of the things Dean admired about him.

He breezed through his own lectures, taking notes on autopilot and he only had half his mind on his practical classes, prompting the lecturer to yell at him to _‘get his head in the game’_. His team still won the football match.

At the end of college, Dean was first out of the changing rooms, a smile on his face as he drifted over to the recital hall. 

He headed towards the reception and plastered on a charming smile for the young woman at the desk, her dark bangs falling over her face as she typed away at her computer.

“Hi, I was wondering where the orchestra rehearses?”

She offered him a brief glance before finishing up on her computer and clasping her hands together as she turned her full attention to him.

“Stage and Screen or Symphony?” She asked.

Dean paused, blinking in confusion. He hadn’t realised there were two orchestras.

“Stage and Screen,” a familiar voice said and Dean exhaled in relief as he turned to find Castiel smiling back at him, a music pad clasped between his fingers.

Castiel nodded at the receptionist, who smiled back before returning to her computer. Then, he jerked his head to the left and Dean followed him down the corridor to the recital hall.

“You came,” Castiel commented.

Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets and shrugged, trying to make it seem as though he hadn’t been looking forward to watching Cas play all day.

“You invited me.”

A hint of a smile played about Castiel’s lips as they entered the hall. “I wasn’t sure if you’d take me up on the offer.”

Dean glanced at the faint bruise still encircling Castiel’s eye. He wondered if it was still sore.

“I’ve still never heard you play. Wanted to see if you’re as good as you think you are,” Dean teased, making Castiel chuckle.

“I never claimed I was any good.”

“It’s all in the eyes,” Dean winked.

“The good one or the bruised one?” Castiel shot back.

Dean grimaced. “Does it still hurt?”

Castiel shook his head with a small grin. “I was only teasing.”

They wandered into the hall to find some musicians already unpacking their instruments. There was a soft curse as a percussionist knocked over her music stand.

Dean eyed the rows of seats behind him. “Do you get many people listening in on rehearsals?”

Castiel shook his head. “Occasionally we have friends of the players drop by. I’m assuming you’ll be the only one tonight.”

“What are you playing?”

“Mostly movie scores. I believe we’re running through the Star Wars medley tonight.”

Dean perked up. “Yeah? Is the cantina bit included?”

Castiel cocked an eyebrow. “You’re a fan?”

Dean puffed his chest out. “Dude. I grew up on old classics like _A New Hope_ and _Star Trek TOS_. I spent my entire childhood listening to those scores.”

Castiel gave him a look that suggested he hadn’t expected Dean to be interested in those sorts of things. Dean shrugged defensively. 

“The TV was good company when Dad wasn’t around much.”

Castiel’s gaze softened. “I hope we can do your childhood justice,” he offered.

At that moment, a dark-skinned woman with gorgeous curls and killer eye-liner paced over, tapping Castiel on the shoulder.

“Billie,” Castiel greeted as the woman handed him a stack of paper.

“Castiel. I’d like to run over some revisions to your part in section F,” she said in a smooth voice that left no room for protest. She spared a glance at Dean and curled her lips a little in distaste. His reputation obviously wasn’t unknown amongst the musicians of the college either.

“Winchester,” she said disapprovingly, prompting Dean to wave awkwardly.

Castiel frowned but said nothing as Billie whisked him away to the piano.

Dean sighed. No matter how much he tried to prove that he was changing, there would always be people to judge him.

He settled into his seat and waited for the rehearsal to begin.

 

* * *

 

Dean was entranced. The hall was quiet save the melody Castiel was hammering out of the piano. His fingers flew over the keys, confident and elegant, never stumbling even during the rich and heavy chords that rang from his left hand. The other players were silent as Castiel’s solo reverberated around the room, the pianist finding no difficulty with the music despite the revisions he’d had to sight-read. 

Dean was on the edge of his seat, wishing he could drift closer in order to watch the man’s long fingers dance over the keys. Every note held a meaning, every dynamic was pure, every articulation was precise and expressive. Dean could practically feel the music.

He wondered if Castiel could bring that same expression and feeling to a Zeppelin classic or a Meatloaf hit. He’d love to hear Castiel thundering through ‘Bat Out of Hell’.

Suddenly, the orchestra barrelled back in and Dean wasn’t sure whether he wanted to groan or gasp. On the one hand, the other instruments practically drowned Castiel’s beautiful playing out, on the other, the music intensified and Dean was too involved with the piece to complain that he couldn’t hear the piano.

When the piece came to a close, Dean let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and he clapped before he could think what he was doing.

Some members of the orchestra grinned in amusement as Dean whistled in appreciation, but Billie turned a withering glare onto him and Dean fell quiet and dropped his gaze in embarrassment. When he next raised it, Castiel’s eyes shone back at him in mirth, a smile playing about his lips.

Billie returned her gaze to the orchestra. “Violins, bar fifty-seven was sloppy and second violins ignored their dynamics. May I remind you that _‘mp’_ does not mean ‘mighty powerful’? Brass, you slowed down in section E. _Don’t._ Piano, section G had far too much pedal. I know you’re playing a solo but at least try to make it seem like you’re not attempting to hide your mistakes. Percussion, you didn’t come in at bar one-hundred and twelve.”

Dean bristled. What did this woman know about playing piano? She merely waved a stick around. Castiel was a far better musician than she would ever be – how dare she insinuate Cas was making mistakes!

He had half a mind to argue with her when one of the flautists suddenly shot a playful grin at Castiel.

“What key were you playing in at one-hundred? Sounded like contemporary jazz!”

Some people began to snicker as Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Andrew. I have two staves to read. Go back to counting ledger lines.”

“At least I can count ledger lines.”

“At least I can play in tune.”

There was a round of _‘ooo’_ s as Andrew snorted and Castiel smirked back.

“At least I don’t fall off stage at concerts,” said Andrew.

There was a burst of laughter from the rest of the orchestra as Castiel grinned and shook his head.

“It was all part of the show,” he lied, making everyone laugh harder.

“Alright, settle down,” said Billie, tapping her baton on her stand. The orchestra fell silent, most members still smiling as she explained which parts she wanted to practise.

Dean found himself staring at Castiel’s open smile and the humour in his eyes as Andrew shot him a subtle wink. Castiel fit in so well with these people; he looked at home here. Dean had never seen the man so confident and at ease despite all the playful ribbing and he quickly realised he wanted to see more of this side of Castiel. He wanted to hear more of his teasing, see more of his amused smiles and twinkling eyes. 

He wanted to hear more of Castiel’s music. He wanted to ask him what ledger lines where and he wanted to find out about the time he’d fallen off stage at a concert. He wanted to understand the jokes Castiel cracked; to be a part of this world Cas was so comfortable in.

He raked his gaze over Castiel once more, taking in his wind-ruffled hair and his bright smile and the way his fingers flexed over the keys, raring to begin the music once again. His trench coat was strewn haphazardly over the stool he was sitting on and his tie had become loose at some point during the rehearsal, hanging low around his neck where the top button of his shirt had come undone. He looked relaxed. Happy.

Dean’s throat grew drier the longer he watched the older man. He wondered if Castiel knew how gorgeous he looked in that moment.

Dean shook his head and dropped his gaze. He was here for the music, nothing more.

The orchestra started up again and Dean chose to ignore the tiny voice in his head that scoffed how that was an awful lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! I'm terrible at updating because Christmas shopping XD I'm off for Christmas now though, so I should (hopefully) be updating more frequently!
> 
> On another note... Sabriel!


	18. Chapter 18

Sam slipped out of his last lecture quicker than usual. He trotted to the bathroom to fix his appearance and to spray the stench of college away with some whisky-coloured Armani. He took a moment to gaze at himself in the mirror and rand a hand through his hair to rid himself of that windswept look.

He was nervous.

He’d never been nervous on a date before.

A smile touched his lips and he straightened. He still couldn’t quite believe he was going on a date with Gabriel.

His smile faded. What if something went wrong? What if Gabriel didn’t like the restaurant he’d picked? What if he messed up and said something to offend Gabriel? It had happened in the past. What if Gabriel decided they didn’t work together?

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was working himself up over possibilities that probably wouldn’t even happen. He needed to focus. Stay calm. 

He checked his watch and straightened out his jacket. Should he have worn a suit? Would Gabriel think him underdressed?

He glanced down at his black trousers and plain blue shirt. His jacket was a brown suede, making his outfit appear less flashy than usual. He was surprised to find he liked the simple look.

He closed his eyes to clear his head. 

He had booked a Brazilian place in town. It served a tapas option which Sam had thought romantic and the restaurant wasn’t as overpriced as he usually frequented because he’d come to notice Gabriel’s discomfort when he spent too much money around him. He was also planning on taking Gabriel to a bar after their meal as he knew a place that played good live music despite him never actually having visited. Regular bars had always seemed too rough and dirty for his tastes, but his brother enjoyed them and he was up for trying something new when it came to Gabriel.

Everything was planned and booked and all he had to do now was get them both to the venues.

Plastering on a smile that looked more confident than he felt, Sam left the bathroom and headed over to the nutritional science department. 

He found Gabriel leaving the bathroom, juggling two bags and a tray which was wrapped in tin foil.

Sam arched an eyebrow. That definitely wasn’t the outfit Gabriel had left the suite in earlier.

“You changed?” He asked and Gabriel shot him a grin as he finally gained control over his baggage.

“Didn’t want to go on a date looking like an exploded bag of flour. Speaking of which… I made you something.” He thrust the tray towards Sam.

Sam took it carefully, knowing to be gentle with Gabriel’s often delicate treats.

“What is it?” Sam asked, peeling a bit of foil back to sneak a peek at the tray’s contents. Whatever it was, it smelled heavenly.

“Chocolate eclairs,” replied Gabriel, smiling when Sam’s eyes lit up.

Sam sometimes wondered how he’d turned his nose up at sweet stuff for the past decade, because he couldn’t imagine going through life without tasting Gabriel’s delicious desserts. He wondered if it was a good or bad thing that Gabriel had brought out his sweet-loving side.

They ambled out of the nutrition building and Sam’s cheeks flushed pink when he realised Gabriel was blatantly checking him out.

“You look hot,” Gabriel commented with a smirk and Sam stumbled a little before composing himself once more. He glanced over Gabriel’s new black jeans and rich red shirt before his gaze landed on the green jacket he’d bought the man a few days ago. He’d been right in thinking it would suit Gabriel.

“You look… good yourself,” Sam said quietly, averting his gaze at Gabriel’s amused smile.

They arrived at the car a few minutes later and dumped their bags in the back. Gabriel offered to hold the tray of eclairs so they wouldn’t get crushed.

“Where are you taking me, Samsquatch?” Asked Gabriel as he strapped himself in and turned those intense amber eyes onto Sam. 

“I was thinking Brazilian,” said Sam as he rolled the car out of the parking lot. “Do you like tapas?”

“As a rule: if it’s food, I’ll like it,” winked Gabriel and Sam nearly jumped out of his seat when Gabriel slid a hand over his leg.

The older man grinned wolfishly. “You always this smooth with your dates, kiddo?”

Sam blew out a long breath as Gabriel smoothed his thumb over his thigh. It was actually rather soothing.

“I’m nervous,” Sam admitted softly and Gabriel’s gaze softened.

“It’s only me, Sam. Nothing to be nervous about. I promise I won’t bite.” He paused. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing?”

Sam shifted in his seat with a strained expression. Gabriel smirked.

“What happened to taking things slow?” Sam pouted. Since when was Gabriel this bold and smooth? What had happened to the guy who shied away from Sam’s money? What had happened to the patient man who taught Sam lessons in morality and kindness? 

Why wasn’t Gabriel as nervous as he was?

Gabriel chuckled. “We are taking things slow. I want you to relax around me. Just because we’re on a date, it doesn’t mean you have to put on airs and graces and be on your best behaviour. You’ve already impressed me. I want you to be yourself.”

Sam sagged as Gabriel squeezed his thigh reassuringly.

“Also, I enjoy watching you get all flustered. It’s cute,” hummed Gabriel.

Sam bit his lip to stop himself from making any embarrassing noises.

Crap. He really liked Gabriel teasing him.

What exactly had he signed himself up for?

Without dwelling on it too much, Sam dropped one hand from the wheel and tangled his fingers with Gabriel’s. Gabriel’s smile widened and Sam found himself relaxing. This was nice.

“I hope you don’t expect this hand back,” Gabriel commented easily.

Sam’s lips twitched upwards. He was going to enjoy this date.

 

* * *

 

The restaurant was warmly lit with wooden tables, stone floors and a distinctly European feel to the knickknacks and photos littered over the walls. The staff were friendly and the food smelled amazing and Gabriel kept toying with Sam’s fingers without seeming to realise he was doing so. 

Sam’s chest was bursting with happiness.

Gabriel stabbed at an albondiga and brought it to his lips, only to wrinkle his nose and sniff at the meat before returning it to his plate. 

“Something smells off about that,” he commented with a small frown and Sam cocked an eyebrow and bit into his own meatball.

“Tastes fine to me,” he shrugged when Gabriel lifted a hand to stop him.

When nothing eventful occurred after a few seconds, Gabriel returned his gaze to his plate and picked at some chorizo. His albondiga was left untouched.

“So, are you a secret romantic at heart?” Gabriel asked, gesturing to the tapas dishes scattered between them. There was something intimate about sharing food like this and the meal was made interesting because of the variety. The different flavours gave them something to talk about in between conversations and Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at ease around someone else.

“I’m not sure,” he confessed. “My previous dates have all ended in the same result. I guess the date was more of a courtesy thing rather than me actually wanting to get to know my partner. None of my hook-ups have ever been interested in getting to know me either. We both know there’s only one thing we want out of the night.” Sam glanced at his and Gabriel’s entwined fingers. “You’re different though. I want to get to know you better.” He wanted to learn everything he could about Gabriel.

Gabriel cocked his head to one side curiously.

“You’ve never taken anyone out on a date just because you like them? It’s always been about sex?”

Sam began to shake his head but paused when a memory from three years ago hit him. He grimaced.

“…There was one girl…”

Gabriel straightened to show he was listening.

“I was seventeen,” murmured Sam. “There was this girl… Jessica… she um… she had a crush on me. In high school, I had this reputation of being well-spoken and gentle and smart… kinda like I do here. She was beautiful and funny and when she asked me out, I said yes. At first it was because I thought having her hanging off my arm would make me look good, but after a few weeks, I found I really liked her. 

“My friends though… they weren’t great people. They put on a show for the rest of the school, but they were quite bitchy when we were alone. They made fun of people for stupid things and one day, they said something terrible about Jessica’s family. I didn’t want to lose my friends so I just agreed with them. 

“Jess overheard. She told me I was cruel and manipulative and that she wished she’d never met me. I asked for her forgiveness but when she wouldn’t give it to me, I told her she was being childish and I only agreed to going out with her because she had a pretty face. I’d never been rejected before so I tried to hurt her despite it being my fault in the first place. We never spoke after that.”

Sam lowered his gaze in shame. “Until you came along, I would never have realised what I did wrong.”

Gabriel was quiet for a few moments as he regarded Sam.

“You’ve learned from your mistakes,” he offered softly. “You’re making an effort to change. There’s not much more you can do apart from that.”

Sam stroked his thumb over Gabriel’s knuckles.

“Thank you,” he offered quietly. “For sticking with me. For being patient. It can’t have been easy.”

Gabriel smiled and squeezed Sam’s hand. “No, but it was definitely worth it.”

A shy smile graced Sam’s lips as he played with Gabriel’s fingers. He could talk to Gabriel without fear of judgement and ridicule. Gabriel didn’t mock him for being weak like his past friends had and he didn’t immediately dismiss him as cruel and evil like he’d been originally scared of. Gabriel was kind and patient and Sam was grateful for his friendship.

“What about you, Gabe? Have you ever dated anyone seriously?” He asked curiously.

Gabriel shook his head and nibbled on some gambas. “Nope. Only you. But that doesn’t mean I’m inexperienced in the sack.” He wiggled his eyebrows ridiculously and Sam’s throat grew dry.

Not only did Gabriel want him… he was the only one the older man had ever wanted a serious relationship with. How lucky was he?

“Awesome,” mumbled Sam, focusing on his plate to stop himself from reaching across the table and crushing his lips against Gabriel’s.

Gabriel smiled at the top of his head and returned to his meal.

They finished a little over an hour later and Sam refused to allow Gabriel to see the bill. He paid without comment and ignored Gabriel’s adorable little pout as they left the restaurant and headed to the bar.

Gabriel’s pout soon faded when Sam linked their arms and the shorter man burrowed into Sam’s side as they walked, pretending he was cold even though the evening air was warm and still.

Sam played along anyway and tugged him to his side, curling an arm around his waist and nuzzling his hair just because he could. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off Gabriel.

The bar was cosy and inviting, with little niches and cut-outs for customers to huddle into. There was a small stage at the front, where a three-man band was playing lilting country music and once they’d ordered their drinks, Sam found himself with a side-full of Gabriel, his arm curled around the other man as Gabriel leaned into him, a small, contented smile on his face as he sipped at whatever fruity cocktail he’d ordered.

Sam took a swig of beer and once he’d returned the glass to the table, his free hand sought out one of Gabriel’s. He rested his cheek against Gabriel’s head, letting the soft sounds of the acoustic guitar and brush kit wash over him as the vocalist weaved a story about seven women and his attempt to forget about them.

Neither of them spoke as they listened to the band, but Sam took in the apple scent of Gabriel’s shampoo and the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling with each breath. He took note of Gabriel’s warm hands and the soft skin he was allowed to touch. Gabriel’s knee pressed against his, seeking as much contact as possible even though they were leaning into one another and Sam couldn’t help but bury his nose into Gabriel’s hair, lips barely brushing the silky strands in a light kiss.

He couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy.

Gabriel squeezed his hand gently, a smile quirking his lips.

They remained like that for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel awoke to the sound of retching.

He frowned, eyes still closed, and stretched a hand out in search of Sam.

When he figured out the bed was empty, he sat upright and glanced around the room. He glanced at the clock, wondering if he’d slept in, but the sky was still dark and the clock read 4:15 a.m., meaning Sam should have still been cuddling him.

He rubbed at his eyes tiredly and scowled at the horrible gagging noise coming from the bathroom.

With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and padded towards the ensuite, nudging the door open with his fingertips.

His eyes widened at the sight of Sam hunched over the toilet, coughing and retching and throwing up most of his dinner.

“Sam,” Gabriel said in alarm as he paced over and held the younger man’s hair away from the bowl. Sam heaved again and Gabriel winced at the wet sound as his stomach contents hit the water.

He rubbed the younger man’s back soothingly as Sam shivered, a soft groan cascading from his lips as he clenched his stomach. He wiped his mouth with a piece of toilet paper and flushed away the mess, quickly washing his hands and rinsing his mouth in the sink. He sagged against the shower door, holding his stomach. Tears of pain glazed his eyes and when Gabriel moved towards him, Sam shook his head in embarrassment and tried to push him away.

Gabriel hesitated and his arms fell limply at his sides, uncertain what to do as he stood in the middle of the bathroom.

“This is the sixth time in the past two hours,” whimpered Sam. “It’s got to be food poisoning.”

Gabriel cast his mind back to dinner and closed his eyes in realisation. The funky-smelling meatballs.

Sam seemed to have come to the same conclusion because his head was hanging low in shame and he refused to meet Gabriel’s gaze. He grimaced and clutched at his stomach at a fresh wave of pain.

Gabriel scowled and tugged the younger man into his arms. There wasn’t much he could do about food poisoning, but he could rub Sam’s stomach and stroke his hair and try to make him comfortable as he suffered through the sickness.

Sam shook his head again and tried to pull away. “Don’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with me being like this. I don’t want you to see me draped over the toilet. Go back to bed.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and tugged Sam to him again.

“Your puke isn’t going to put me off,” he huffed quietly. “Now come here and try to relax. You’re not suffering alone.” 

Sam shuddered again, clearly having lost control of his body temperature now he was fighting bacteria and their toxins. Gabriel guided them both to the floor, tucking Sam into his chest as he stroked his back and smoothed a warm hand over his belly.

Tears slipped down Sam face as he pressed his nose into Gabriel’s shirt and long arms snaked around the older man, clutching at his back in gratitude.

“Sshh… it’s alright, Sam. It’ll be over soon,” whispered Gabriel, heart aching for the other man.

Sam nodded as though he truly believed Gabriel; trusting him without a single doubt.

“I’m sorry,” whimpered Sam and Gabriel’s heart cracked as he nuzzled the younger man’s hair.

“What are you sorry about? It’s not your fault,” he murmured. “Lean your head against my shoulder and relax. That’s it. Try to get some rest, kiddo.”

Sam closed his eyes as Gabriel continued smoothing circles into his stomach and the older man frowned at the sweat shining over Sam’s skin and the dark shadows beneath his eyes. Poor kid.

He kissed the top of Sam’s head and waited for his breathing to even out before he closed his own eyes. He’d probably be up again in half an hour, Sam hanging over the toilet once more, but he would give Sam what little comfort he could offer until the time came.

 

* * *

 

Dean ate lunch on his own again, browsing through his lecture notes for lack of anything better to do. He learned a little more about myocardiocytes and their role in contraction of the heart before he felt a familiar and wholly unwelcome presence on the other side of the table.

He glanced up from his laptop to find Alastair, Gordon and Bartholomew cocking their eyebrows at him.

He frowned and returned his attention to his laptop, only for Gordon to slam it shut.

They slid into the booth either side of him until he was boxed in and he tensed, ready for anything they decided to throw at him.

“We need to talk, Dean,” hummed Bartholomew.

“No, thanks,” Dean said airily, reopening his laptop, which Gordon immediately closed again.

“You can’t keep ignoring us forever, Dean,” growled Alastair.

“Sure I can,” grinned Dean before flipping his laptop open and swatting Gordon’s hand away when he reached for it.

Suddenly, Alastair slammed the laptop shut, trapping Dean’s fingers inside and making him yelp. Alastair kept his weight on the lid and Dean’s fingers flared with pain.

“We watch you sit alone during lunch every day and we feel sorry for you,” drawled Bartholomew. “We’re only trying to be good friends. We miss you,” he said in a way that implied none of them cared in the least what happened to Dean. “Why don’t you join us at our table and we can talk?”

Dean finally yanked his fingers free of his laptop and glared at Bartholomew. “I’d rather gnaw my own foot off.”

Bartholomew narrowed his eyes. “You’ve changed,” he accused. “What’s happened to you? We used to be such good _pals_ , Dean-o. Ever since you started that stupid bet over Castiel, you’ve become this pathetic, lost puppy begging for his attention. Is his dick really that great?”

Dean bristled. Now he remembered why he had no interest in speaking to these people again; they were arrogant, degrading, condescending assholes.

“No, it’s just that yours isn’t worth my time,” he winked but his gaze was deadly serious. He could be just as crude as they were.

Bartholomew stiffened. “Now listen here, Winchester- ”

“Why should I? The only reason you want me back is A; so I’ll buy you stuff, B; so you can pick on people or C; so I’ll jump into bed with you. I’m ashamed it took me so long to figure it out. Why on Earth would I want anything to do with you?”

Alastair narrowed his eyes. “I think you’re forgetting how much we’ve done for you.”

Dean laughed at that. “How much you’ve done for me? You don’t give a crap about me! You never have! You want me around for when it suits you. So tell me, what exactly is it you’ve done for me other than encourage me to break people’s hearts, look out for only myself and make fun of those who are less fortunate?”

“Careful, Dean,” growled Alastair. “Don’t say something we’ll make you regret.”

Dean scoffed. “I already regret meeting you. What more could you possibly do?”

Gordon grabbed Dean’s laptop and hurled it across the table. Before it could skid off the end, someone caught it and tucked it under their arm.

“You’re in our seats,” said Castiel coolly as he stared at Gordon.

Dean watched, stunned, as Gordon’s eyes widened in surprise and he puffed his chest out like an angry bird.

“I don’t see your names on them,” he grated out.

“Well, we were going to carve them into the leather but we got yelled at by the kitchen staff,” snarked Meg. “Now move. You’re spoiling the view.”

Bartholomew and Alastair glanced at one another as Gordon clenched his hands into fists.

“Find another booth,” growled Gordon.

“Very well,” hummed Castiel. “Dean, are you coming?”

Dean perked up and nodded, picking up his laptop case as he attempted to slip past his former friends. 

Gordon grabbed his wrist and yanked him back down. “Dean’s busy.”

Castiel tilted his chin, a challenge in his gaze. “So busy that you have to hold him down to keep his attention?”

Dean yanked his arm out of Gordon’s grip. “Conversation’s finished. I’m free now.”

He slid out of the trio’s grasp and headed towards Castiel and his friends, but stumbled when Alastair subtly hooked his foot around Dean’s ankle.

Balthazar caught him and steadied him and Dean was a little surprised by that to be honest.

Castiel handed him his rescued laptop and Dean took it gratefully before the older man’s hand came to rest on his shoulder and Dean found himself suddenly being steered away from his former friends. He raised his eyebrows when Meg flipped the trio off.

He was even more stunned when he was bundled into Castiel and his friends’ regular booth.

He watched as Alastair, Gordon and Bartholomew glowered at them from across the room before they slunk out of the dining hall with thin mouths and white knuckles.

“What jerks,” huffed Hannah as she rummaged around in her bag. A few seconds later, she pulled out a bag of M&Ms and placed it in the middle of the table. Meg’s face lit up and she dipped her hand into the bag with an appreciative glance at Hannah.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Asked Gadreel quietly and five sets of eyes focused on him.

Dean honestly didn’t know what was happening. Why were they letting him sit with them? Why did they care how he was feeling? Why had they helped him?

“I… um…” Dean began, mouth working open and closed in confusion. “Why are you being so nice to me?” He asked finally, for lack of inspiration.

Castiel’s gaze softened. “Because you have treated us as such.”

Dean stared at him before flicking his gaze to Balthazar. Before he could point out his previous maltreatment of the Frenchman, Balthazar held a hand up.

“Don’t drag up the past. We agreed on a fresh start,” he said sternly.

Dean clamped his mouth shut and stared wide-eyed at the group.

“You don’t have to sit with us if you’d rather be somewhere else,” said Castiel. “But we’d quite like the company.”

“Just don’t eat all the blue M&Ms,” said Meg as she shovelled a handful of the tiny chocolates into her mouth. “They’re my favourite.”

Dean blinked and wondered what the warm feeling in his chest was. He slowly relaxed into his seat and watched as Castiel smiled, pleased.

“Anyway, what were you saying about Professor Ketch?” Asked Balthazar as he turned to Gadreel. “Something about him finding out about your anime gay porn stash?”

Gadreel rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Balthazar. If anyone is into Yaoi, it’s you.”

Balthazar beamed. “Une minute, s’il vous plaît… how do you know what Yaoi is?”

Gadreel paused then shot Balthazar a withering glare as the bickering began and everyone watched in amusement, sometimes offering their own two cents just to get both men riled up further. Even Hannah was giggling at her boyfriend.

Dean stayed silent as he listened but he didn’t feel left out of the conversation, which was a strange feeling really. He hadn’t expected to be accepted by these people, yet here he was, eating their chocolate and smiling at their arguing and sharing grateful glances with Castiel.

Was this what it was like to have real friends?

He didn’t even know them all that well, yet he felt… at home. Relaxed.

Maybe he should invite them all around for another movie night at some point during the week. That would be fun. It could be a ‘thank you’ for standing up for him against his former… associates.

He rather liked having the suite full of good people.

He looked up to find Castiel tilting his head at him in silent question as the others’ bickering and snickering grew louder.

Dean offered him a smile and Castiel relaxed, shifting his focus to his friends.

Dean’s smile grew. He wondered what everyone’s favourite kind of popcorn was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piling on the the fluff here guys ;)


	19. Chapter 19

“So is it possible to have a drug which is chronotropic but not inotropic?” Asked Kevin, brows furrowed in concentration as he highlighted a section of his notes in blue and scribbled something next to them.

Sam nodded. “But they’re not common and you’ll learn about them in second year, so don’t worry about them for now.”

Charlie scrunched her nose. “Wait, what’s an inotrope again?” 

“Something that affects the force of contractions in the heart. Chronotropes affect heart rate and rhythm,” replied Sam.

Charlie nodded and returned to her workbook littered with flow charts Sam didn’t even want to look at.

They were in the library by a large window that Charlie had immediately flocked to because of the warm sunlight filtering through it. It was peaceful and Sam felt a little like a happy cat as the rays of light poured over his back and spilled across his lecture notes, making everything slightly warm.

His phone buzzed and Sam unlocked it to find a new text from Gabriel. He smiled at the heart-shaped spaghetti noodle Gabriel had sent him a photo of.

Gabriel had been sending him photos of cheesy romantic things all day and honestly, Sam had never grinned this much in his life.

It had started with a picture of an acorn with the caption _‘Nuts about you’_ and had progressed to a picture of a cheese grater with the caption _‘I think you’re grate’_. The next one was a badly drawn doodle of a sheep with the words _‘Ewe are my favourite’_ scribbled beneath it and slowly but surely, Sam’s phone had filled up with the pictures Gabriel kept sending him.

It was corny and awful and Sam absolutely loved it because it was typical Gabriel.

He still couldn’t quite believe Gabriel wanted a second date after the disaster of Thursday night, but here Gabriel was on a Saturday afternoon, sending him pictures of acorns and doodled sheep in   
between texts asking how he was feeling.

Gabriel hadn’t wanted him to leave the suite that Saturday and Sam suspected it was so Gabriel could keep an eye on him. He hadn’t felt all that great on the Friday but he hadn’t vomited so that was a plus. He’d also promised Kevin and Charlie a study session at two p.m. on Saturday, so despite Gabriel mother henning him that morning, Sam had insisted on meeting with his new friends because he didn’t want to break his promise.

Gabriel had reluctantly let him go, but Sam was enjoying the photos. After Gabriel had worked the majority of Friday and Sam had been in University when Gabriel had returned to the suite, Sam was startled to find that he was missing the shorter man. Gabriel had been exhausted from working an emergency double shift and by the time Sam had got home from college last night, Gabriel was already asleep on the couch, snoring lightly. They had barely seen each other and now Sam wished Gabriel was with him instead of working at the café. 

Before he realised what he was doing, he had sent a two-word text to Gabriel and his eyes widened with panic when his phone confirmed it had travelled through the airwaves to Gabriel’s phone.

 _‘Miss you’_ the little blue bubble read.

There was a pause and Sam grimaced. He sounded so needy.

After a few more minutes, Sam realised he’d messed up. Gabriel wasn’t replying. He’d freaked the guy out and now there was no hope of a second date. Why was he such a screw-up? He was the one who had wanted to take things slow and now he’d blurted his feelings and Gabriel didn’t want to speak to him. Maybe romance just wasn’t in his fate. Maybe he was a bad person and didn’t deserve it.

He returned to his lecture notes and tried not to let on to Charlie and Kevin that he could barely see the words on the page. He was a horrible person. He’d hurt people and ridiculed them all whilst wearing a disguise of good manners and a large vocabulary. He’d been cruel to the only girl he’d ever been interested in and he’d practically blackmailed a woman into dating him just to improve his image. Not even his own mother could be bothered with him so why on Earth would he deserve the love and attention of a guy he’d mocked and degraded and thrown milk over?

The truth was he didn’t and he had to accept that.

Gabriel would be better off having nothing to do with him anyway. The shorter man was kind and patient and considerate and Sam didn’t deserve him.

His phone buzzed.

Frowning, Sam opened the new message from Gabriel.

_**My heart’s a puddle at my feet, kiddo. I miss you too. Replies might be a little slow ‘cos Ellen’s busting my balls for texting at work. I’m hiding in the fridge. See ya later** _

Sam blinked at the text, then ducked his head and felt silly. Of course Gabriel wouldn’t freak out; the whole point of them dating was because they wanted something more with one another. Not to mention this was the same Gabriel who slapped his ass and squeezed his thighs and cuddled up to him every night. Why would Gabriel freak out over a simple text?

…Was Sam freaking out? Was he the one who couldn’t get used to the idea of someone genuinely wanting him? Was he the one panicking over when the other shoe would drop and Gabriel would realise that Sam was a cruel, heartless monster he should despise and leave him for someone Gabe actually deserved?

Sam stared at his phone. 

…Maybe he had more issues than he thought.

Should he… should he tell someone about them? Should he talk about his childhood trauma?

He could ask Gabriel for advice later that day. Gabriel wouldn’t judge him.

 

* * *

 

Dean cocked his head at the text.

_**Roller skating @ 7pm? I’ll pick you up** _

The message had come from Castiel out of the blue and Dean wasn’t entirely sure why the older man wanted to spend time with him. Honestly though, roller skating sounded fun, especially when he had assumed his evening would be spent alone, pondering over whether there was something going on between Sam and Gabriel. He was pretty sure there was.

‘Good on Sammy,’ he thought. 

With a quirk to his lips, he sent off a quick text to Cas, accepting the invitation. He hoped Castiel had the patience to teach him how to skate because Dean knew he was going to be hopeless at it.

He reclined on the couch and wondered how good a skater Castiel was. Would he play himself down and show Dean how to balance and slide one foot in front of the other, or would he show off and try to impress Dean?

He conjured up an image of Castiel gliding in time with some bass-heavy rock music, swinging his body weight around and pushing forward powerfully with every graceful slide of his legs. He imagined Castiel wearing his familiar trench coat and a smug smirk as he pretended not to notice Dean’s eyes on him, Castiel’s own gaze twinkling with mirth and playfulness as he skated circles around Dean’s wobbly form, looking like some sort of angel with his trench tails billowing behind him.

Dean shook his head at himself. Enough daydreaming. He should probably clean the house. His bedroom looked as though a pig had wandered in there for half the week.

With a sigh and a wish for the evening to not end in another disaster, Dean rolled off the couch and headed upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Castiel wasn’t sure what he had been expecting out of inviting Dean Winchester to the roller rink with his friends, but skinny jeans and a muscle-hugging T-shirt definitely hadn’t been in his mind.

Castiel swallowed drily and stared as Dean bent down to slip his skates on. The man was clearly struggling but Castiel didn’t rush to his aid because he was wholly distracted by thoughts of how perfect Dean’s ass looked in blue, skinny jeans.

He blinked himself out of his reverie and skated over to Dean, the carpet slowing him down a little. 

“That would be easier if you sit down,” he intoned, mortified at how gravelly his voice suddenly was. Dean glanced up at him and Castiel was treated to a show of Dean rising to his full height, the dark red shirt gripping all of Dean’s torso as he moved, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Oh right,” hummed Dean as he wobbled over to a nearby bench and plopped onto it gracelessly, one skate in his hand, the other semi-attached to his foot.

Castiel frowned at his own staring and turned away. He shouldn’t be ogling Dean. He’d made it abundantly clear to everyone that he wasn’t interested in the man.

Balthazar shuffled up to him, the carpet resisting his wheels. Castiel jerked in surprise at the hand that slapped his back.

“Viens-tu, mon cheri?” 

Castiel offered him a small smile and nodded and they skated out onto the rink, closely followed by Gadreel and Hannah, then a less-certain Meg.

Eventually, Dean tied his skates and gingerly placed one foot in front of the other on the rough carpet. He wobbled erratically for a moment and Castiel came to a dead stop near the entrance to the rink, watching concernedly as Dean flung an arm against the wall to stop himself from tumbling over.

An arm slung around his shoulder. 

“He’s never skated before?” Asked Balthazar curiously.

Castiel shook his head and Balthazar cocked an eyebrow.

“What made you invite him?”

Castiel shrugged. “He’s… lonely. He’s lost all of his friends and people have no interest in him now he doesn’t want to be their bed warmer. He took my advice and look what it’s cost him. He’s trying to atone for his mistakes and it’s only fair we give him some incentive to become a better person. A little encouragement goes a long way.”

Balthazar tilted his head. “When you put it that way…”

They watched Dean take two more steps before he ran out of wall to lean on and his feet slid out from under him. They winced at his hard fall.

Still, Dean clambered to his feet again, determined to at least make it to the rink.

“We should help him,” stated Castiel.

Balthazar glanced at Cas for a moment before gesturing towards the rink’s exit.

They glided onto the carpet and Dean startled as they stopped by his sides and gently grabbed his arms to steady him. He looked at them both gratefully and the trio awkwardly shuffled onto the rink, Dean’s eyes blowing wide as his wheels suddenly loosened on the smooth, waxed floor.

He jerked backwards, his feet threatening to fly out from under him again, but Castiel and Balthazar were there to catch him, propping him upright as they practically dragged him to the wall.

“It’s just like walking,” offered Castiel once they were out of the throng of skaters jostling to get onto the rink. “Bend your knees a little, lean your weight into your toes and take small steps with your feet angled slightly outwards.”

Dean’s tongue poked out from between his lips, making Castiel smile as the man followed his instructions. Balthazar and Castiel let go of his arms to allow him to grow accustomed to his centre of balance, but they weren’t too far away from him in case he took another nose dive towards the floor. 

It was actually rather amusing to watch Dean bend his knees exaggeratedly as he took tiny baby steps, arms spread wide in an effort to keep himself upright.

After a few minutes, Dean slowly began to straighten, arms falling lower as he got used to the feeling of the skates and soon, he was skating around the wall on his own, movements jerky and lacking confidence, but on two feet at least.

“Très bien,” said Balthazar after a while and without thinking, he slapped Dean’s back in praise.

Dean yelped and fell flat on his face and Balthazar grimaced as Castiel carefully picked him back up.

“Ow,” mumbled Dean.

“I’m uh… I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t my intention to make you fall,” winced Balthazar.

Dean shook his head, easily dismissing the Frenchman’s concern.

“Probably deserved that,” he winked and Balthazar looked ready to protest before a small smile quirked his lips.

Dean furrowed his brows in concentration again and slid forwards, arms raised in caution once more.

Castiel elbowed Balthazar good-naturedly and Balthazar chuckled as they shadowed Dean around the rink.

On the opposite side of the rink, Meg staggered and dropped to the floor with a scowl. Hannah swerved to a stop to pull her upright and then grabbed Meg’s hand and began leading her around the rink, making the shorter woman laugh as Gadreel chased them both.

“Meg’s pretty new to this as well,” offered Castiel at Dean’s curious look. “Not quite as new as you, but still inexperienced.”

Dean perked up a little at that and he pushed away from the wall for a moment, testing whether he could skate without it. Deciding he couldn’t, he leaned towards it again and continued on his path.

They watched as Gadreel eventually gave up on chasing the girls and continued at his own sedate pace, watching the lasers on the floor and skating between them for lack of anything else to do.

Balthazar smirked and held one finger up at Dean and Cas before sidling behind Gadreel when he passed them. He snaked his arms around Gadreel’s waist, being careful not to trip him and carefully lay his head against the taller man’s back.

Obviously mistaking him for Hannah, Gadreel smiled and slid his hands over Balthazar’s and they looped the rink before Balthazar leaned close to Gadreel’s ear and whispered something probably filthy into it.

Gadreel jumped and pulled a face before quickly shoving Balthazar’s hands off him to the sound of Meg and Hannah laughing behind him.

Balthazar whizzed past him, whirling on his heel until he was skating backwards and could blow a kiss to the narrow-eyed Gadreel.

Gadreel suddenly picked up his speed, looking as though he was going to flatten Balthazar, but Balthazar turned around effortlessly and flew off at an impressive speed, clearly the better skater of the pair.

He returned to Dean and Castiel with a grin.

“He’s just too easy to wind up,” Balthazar drawled and Castiel rolled his eyes before returning his attention to Dean.

Dean laughed and it was infectious, making both Castiel and Balthazar smile at its sincerity. 

Castiel wondered how he could wring more of that sound from Dean.

“Can you skate backwards?” Dean asked him and Castiel nodded wordlessly as he steadied Dean when he stumbled.

“Cassie can dance on skates,” commented Balthazar. “In fact, we used to slow dance together to give people a laugh.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Seriously? How?”

“Learn to skate forwards first and we’ll show you,” said Castiel, placing a hand on Dean’s chest to stop him from slouching too far forwards.

They chatted for half an hour as the two older men helped Dean around the rink. Balthazar eventually left them to steal Hannah from Gadreel and the taller man huffed as Balthazar flipped to backwards skating again and held Hannah’s hands as he sped around the floor. Hannah giggled and didn’t protest, so Gadreel slid to Meg’s aid when she slipped and fell, and ended up skating with her instead.

Dean finally moved away from the wall and managed to build enough speed to keep up with the crowd of skaters he was forced to join. He was thankful for Castiel’s support whenever he lost his balance and he only hoped he wasn’t boring the man with his inexperience. 

Castiel was far from bored and he had scolded himself at least three separate times for ogling Dean’s ass as he skated behind him, ready to catch him if he fell.

Two hours into the session, Dean was feeling more confident and Castiel was feeling playful after being restricted to beginner speed for so long.

Gently, he placed his hands on Dean’s waist and slowly began building speed.

Dean stiffened a little in surprise but quickly relaxed and started to chuckle as he was pushed around the rink.

“I’ll steer you,” Castiel said when Dean tried to turn and Dean immediately straightened his feet and let himself be guided by the older man.

Castiel’s trench coat wafted behind him as they gathered more speed and soon, they were racing past the other skaters, Castiel’s movements certain and precise and Dean’s eyes widening at the adrenaline rush and the trickle of fear from having absolutely no control.

It wasn’t long before Castiel’s hands slid further around Dean’s hips as he slowed their speed and stopped the younger man from overbalancing. When they were at a leisurely pace again, Castiel glided out in front and swivelled gracefully until he was facing Dean.

Dean was beaming at him, eyes sparkling from the thrill of the last few minutes. Without a single hesitation, he grasped Castiel’s hands and allowed himself to be dragged around the rink, this time having to steer and skate in time with Castiel so he didn’t pull them both to the floor.

Castiel led them and Dean was quick in catching on to Cas’ movements. It was almost like a dance and Castiel found himself regretting that he had to keep looking over his shoulder and missing Dean’s expressions.

“You and your friends come here a lot?” Asked Dean and his voice was low and deep, meant only for Castiel’s ears.

“No,” murmured Castiel, equally as soft. “I often come on my own or sometimes with Balthazar. Gadreel learned to skate when he was younger but gave it up until a couple of years ago. I didn’t know Hannah could skate.”

“I never would have guessed the thing about you and Balthazar,” murmured Dean before his gaze softened. “You still care for one another.”

Castiel’s lips twitched upwards. “Our friendship was always strong. In fact, it outweighed my attraction to him. It’s why I thought our break-up was mutual. I didn’t realise he still harboured feelings for me.” His smile faded.

Dean squeezed his hands reassuringly. “Not your fault. You’d have hurt him more if you’d kept on dating him but didn’t feel the same way about him as he did about you.”

Castiel risked an apologetic glance at Dean and Dean smiled back sadly.

“Besides, he clearly loves having you around and I’d say he doesn’t hold anything against you. I think he’d be more upset if he thought you were kicking yourself over the past,” said Dean and Castiel flicked his gaze briefly to the laughing Balthazar as Gadreel finally stole Hannah back from him. Cas smiled.

“I think you’re right,” he hummed.

They jerked as a young child undertook them and Castiel quickly swivelled his head again to ensure their path was clear as he steadied Dean.

Dean gripped his hands a little tighter. “I thought football was a dangerous sport.”

Castiel quirked his lips and swerved around a bend sharply, nearly tripping Dean up. He righted himself quickly and dropped his gaze to Castiel’s feet, concentrating on his movements.

Castiel stole a couple of glances at the younger man as they did another lap of the rink. He had half-expected Dean to be clumsy and stiff, but despite Dean’s large frame and broad muscles, the younger man was careful where he placed his feet and his body was surprisingly loose and unresistant to where Castiel led him. His hands were also very gentle as they held Castiel’s and the older man wasn’t sure what to make of the smile that thought brought to his own lips.

Suddenly, the child from earlier undertook them again as they skated around the bend and her boot clipped Dean’s, making him stumble. Cas’ eyes blew wide in alarm as Dean gripped his arms tighter to keep himself steady, but they were rolling too fast and Castiel jolted forwards as Dean lost his rhythm and snagged Castiel’s boot with his own. Castiel’s back hit the floor before he could blink and Dean didn’t have enough time or experience to jump out of the way.

Castiel released an agonised groan as Dean’s skate collided with his crotch and the man himself fell on him. Dean had enough sense not to let all his body weight flop onto Castiel and his hands shot out either side of Castiel’s head. He grunted as he fell awkwardly onto his left wrist and immediately rolled to one side so he wouldn’t collapse onto a groaning Castiel.

He cradled his wrist and watched Castiel curl into himself as he cupped his throbbing crotch.

“Cas, I’m so sorry,” Dean blurted.

There were hands on them both, pulling them to their feet and supporting Castiel when he nearly collapsed again. Gadreel, Balthazar, Meg and Hannah herded them off the rink and towards a seating area, which Castiel quickly slumped into.

“You two okay?” Asked Meg, a hint of concern touching her tone.

Dean nodded and ignored his aching wrist. It felt sprained. He turned his attention to Castiel instead.

“How bad is it?” He asked quietly.

Castiel slowly straightened and took a deep breath before managing a weak smile towards his friends. “I’m fine. A little sore but nothing to be worried about. Please, enjoy yourselves.”

“We can get ice,” Hannah offered.

Castiel shook his head. Him holding an ice pack to his crotch would look a little strange.

“I can take you home,” Gadreel offered,

Castiel shook his head once more. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be alright. I’ll join you later.”

His friends didn’t look convinced and Dean was surprised by their concern. His own friends wouldn’t have even pulled him to his feet. They’d have probably just laughed at him until he limped off the rink.

Cas rolled his eyes. “I appreciate the concern but I promise I’ll be alright. Just give me a few minutes to cool down.”

His friends glanced at one another before nodding and slowly skating away, sensing he wanted some privacy. Dean wondered if he should leave too.

Castiel leaned heavily against the back of his little plastic chair and cast his gaze to Dean.

“How’s your wrist?”

Dean hadn’t even realised Cas had noticed his pain.

“Probably not as sore as you are,” Dean shrugged.

Castiel quirked a small smile. “I’m beginning to believe you when you said you’re a bad luck charm.”

Dean closed his eyes, cheeks flaming in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, man. You’d be better off keeping away from me.”

Castiel’s eyes twinkled. “It makes our outings more entertaining.”

Dean stared at the faint bruise circling Castiel’s eye. “I’m a health hazard to you,” he grumbled.

Cas chuckled. “No. You’re not. We’ve just had some rotten luck. You need any ice for your wrist?”

Dean shook his head and found himself glancing at Castiel’s crotch. He smirked as a thought came to him.

“Want me to rub that better?” He asked, nodding to where Castiel was cupping himself again.

Castiel blinked in confusion then his eyes widened and his cheeks tinged pink at the insinuation. He averted his gaze and Dean tilted his head at the reaction. He’d expected eye rolls and scoffing, not… shy embarrassment.

Smirk widening when he realised he could have a bit of fun with this, he relaxed into his chair.

“Or would you prefer me to kiss it better?”

Castiel shifted a little but remained otherwise silent and Dean cocked an eyebrow. Interesting.

“Rubbing would give better relief,” Castiel said quietly and Dean nearly choked on air.

Cas lifted his gaze to reveal a tiny smirk on his lips and Dean was suddenly at a loss for words because Castiel had no right to turn his own puns against him and look so smug whilst doing so. It wasn’t fair how attractive the man’s smirk was.

“Doesn’t that depend on the kind of relief you’re looking for?” Teased Dean, liking this playful side of Castiel.

“What kind of relief are you offering?” Hummed Castiel, eyes sparkling again with amusement.

Dean cautiously slung an arm around the back of Castiel’s chair, unsure what was happening between them but not wanting it to stop. His smile widened when Castiel leaned towards his arm a little.

“Depends what you’re willing to pay,” murmured Dean as Castiel’s eyes bored into his, those deep ocean blues wholly focused on him, challenging, teasing… they were breath-taking.

For a moment, Castiel’s gaze slipped down to his lips and Dean had never wanted to touch someone so desperately in his life. Then the moment was over and Castiel turned away shyly, refusing to meet Dean’s gaze.

Dean slid his arm away from Castiel’s chair and dropped his own gaze. What was he doing? He was supposed to be stopping all this ridiculous flirting. He just wanted to be Castiel’s friend; nothing more. It wasn’t fair to keep putting Cas through this.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Castiel said abruptly, before Dean got a chance to speak again and the younger man watched as Castiel waddled towards the restrooms, refusing to glance back at Dean.

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. He hoped he hadn’t made things awkward between them now.

 

* * *

 

“So… what’s on your mind, kiddo?” 

Sam cocked an eyebrow and stared at the shorter man. “What do you mean?”

Gabriel shook his head with a small smile and gestured to the greenery around them. “I get out of work, you act cagey all afternoon and barely speak to me and then after dinner, you propose we go for an evening stroll. Not that I’m not enjoying the fresh air and cricket song, but there’s clearly something going on in that big ol’ head of yours. Wanna share with the class?”

Sam gazed at the grassy ground for a few moments before stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“I’m sorry, Gabe,” he murmured, making the older man cock his head to one side. 

“About what?”

“About… everything,” Sam sighed. “About pouring milk over you, about mocking you, about ridiculing you in front of my friends, about… hurting you. I’ve hurt you so many times and you don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve any of the crap I’ve put you through. I still don’t understand why you choose to stick around.”

Gabriel frowned and grabbed Sam’s arm, halting their walk. Sam turned to him questioningly.

“What’s wrong, Sam? I thought we were past all that. You don’t have to apologise for any of that stuff; you’ve changed so much since then.”

Sam stared at this kind man who cared for Sam more than any of his friends or even his parents had. He gazed into amber eyes that swirled with worry for him and wondered what he’d done to deserve this… sweet, fun-loving angel.

Sam dropped his gaze again and shrugged. “I just… I don’t deserve you. And I’m waiting for the day when you realise it too.”

Gabriel scowled. “Has someone said something to you? ‘Cos I swear, if someone’s made you feel like you’re not good enough or- ”

“No one’s said anything to me,” Sam mumbled.

“Then why are you suddenly acting like this?”

Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other before finally meeting Gabriel’s gaze. “Earlier, when I sent you that text… the one that said I ‘miss you’… you took a while to respond and I just got it into my head that I’d freaked you out and you didn’t want me anymore.” Sam hunched in on himself. “I can’t understand why you want me. I’m cruel and spiteful and the only thing I’m good for is paying for stuff. I mean, not even my own mom cared about me and my dad never called and I’ve not really known my own brother all that long.” His eyes were hot and he could feel water beginning to well in them. “Why would you want me? What use am I? How could anyone truly want to be with me?”

A tear trickled down his cheek and he flushed red in embarrassment as he swiped it away. He was such a mess. Gabriel would leave him. He would see he was no good. Would see how cruel and nasty he was. Sam didn’t deserve anyone’s friendship. Didn’t deserve anyone’s love. He should have known that when his parents couldn’t be bothered with him. There was obviously something wrong with him.

He startled as Gabriel gathered him into his arms and held him close, stroking his back as he nuzzled into Sam’s shoulder.

“Enough of that,” Gabriel huffed. “I thought you were smarter than that. Of course you wouldn’t freak me out with a simple text. I meant what I said, kiddo; I really do miss you when you’re not around. I can’t wait to come home and talk to you, to cook a meal with you and lean on you when we watch TV. I love it when we cuddle in bed, when you hold me close and tell me about your new friends or your professors. I love lying on you and laughing about the stuff we read on the internet. I love going out with you, whether that’s the mall or the movies or a restaurant or even just a walk in the park like we are now. I feel relaxed when you hold my hand and I feel safe when you wrap your arms around me. 

“I love being with you, Sam. Do you think I’d say that if you were a cruel and spiteful person?”

Sam slowly lifted his gaze to stare at Gabriel hopefully. The older man merely smiled and cupped his cheek and Sam slipped his arms around Gabriel, holding him closer.

“I’ve never felt about anyone the same way I feel about you, kiddo,” murmured Gabriel. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

Sam ducked his head shyly. Gabriel pressed their foreheads together.

“But I’m not convinced it’s really me that’s the issue here,” Gabriel said quietly. “I have a feeling these insecurities stem from your childhood.” He paused. “Sam, have you ever thought about a therapist? These issues you have with your mom… I think you need to talk about them.”

Sam closed his eyes and focused wholly on Gabriel; on his soft breaths and the warmth of his smaller body, on the hand stroking his back comfortingly and the palm resting on his cheek. Gabriel’s voice was so soothing and Sam could listen to him talk forever.

“You know I’m always here for you,” hummed Gabriel, “but a professional might be able to offer you more help. You don’t have to, but it’s an option.”

Sam nodded. Gabriel’s advice was usually sound and Sam had no reason to dismiss this gem. He had planned on asking Gabriel’s opinion after all, he just hadn’t expected things to go quite like this. Hadn’t expected to be so close to a breakdown.

“I’ll do some research when I get home,” he promised and Gabriel smiled.

He wondered when they’d both started referring to the suite as home. The thought made his chest warm. Gabriel felt at home with him.

There was a moment where neither of them spoke, merely focusing on one another’s breaths and body heat and scents as they stood with their heads pressed together under the inky night sky. Crickets chirped around them, but other than that, they were utterly alone in the park.

“May I kiss you?” Whispered Sam.

A slow smile spread across Gabriel’s face. “I’m not going to stop you.”

They shifted slightly so the angle was a little less awkward, but Sam kept one arm curled around Gabriel as he tilted his chin up and gently slotted their lips together.

Sam had expected Gabriel to taste sweet like honey considering how much sweet stuff he consumed, so the hint of coffee and cinnamon was a bit of a surprise, but no less appreciated. The kiss started out chaste and light, with Sam pulling away after a mere few seconds, but then Gabriel chased his lips and the next kiss was longer and a little firmer. They came together again for a third and then a fourth and before they knew it, they were licking inside one another’s mouths and trying to press closer.

A hand rode into Sam’s hair, fingers tangling between thick locks and one of Sam’s hands slid down to Gabriel’s ass, splaying over it possessively.

Gabriel pushed closer, free hand riding up Sam’s chest and Sam couldn’t help but squeeze the older man’s ass as he mapped out Gabriel’s mouth, saving the details to his memory for later. 

They pulled apart a few minutes later, lips swollen but eyes shining bright with affection. Sam couldn’t resist leaning down to nuzzle into Gabriel’s neck, kissing the soft skin there.

Gabriel sighed quietly, tilting his head to one side as he let Sam pepper sweet kisses up his neck and jaw. Once satisfied, Sam stole another heated kiss, then glanced up at the stars. He wondered how late it was.

His smile widened when Gabriel burrowed into his chest, tucking his head under Sam’s chin and pulling the younger man’s arms around him. Sam was beginning to realise that Gabriel was a rather affectionate person around those he cared about. He’d even spotted the shorter man leaning on Dean during their movie nights, completely disregarding Dean’s rule about 'no chick-flick moments’. Not that Dean ever pushed him away for all the grumbling he did.

Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel and rested his chin on blond hair. Something had changed in their relationship and Sam couldn’t have been happier. He pressed his nose into Gabriel’s silky hair. He smelled like Sam’s mango shampoo.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they held each other and Sam couldn't remember the last time he’d felt this happy.

Finally, Gabriel leaned backwards to gaze up at Sam.

“Wanna play tonsil tennis in bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows ridiculously and Sam bit back a laugh and nipped at Gabriel’s lower lip, making the older man’s eyes spark with interest.

“You’ll have to teach me the rules,” he hummed and Gabriel grinned before grabbing his hand and marching them in the direction of home, obviously eager for more of Sam.

Sam slid the hand out of Gabriel’s grasp only to slip it into the man’s back pocket. Gabriel immediately leaned into his side and Sam knew he was in for a great night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter, guys but Christmas and New Year just got so hectic and this is the first time I've had chance to post anything! Hope you've all had a brilliant holiday!


	20. Chapter 20

With no word from Castiel all of Sunday, Dean assumed the worst as he settled down for lunch on Monday afternoon. He sat on his own in a booth, sighing at the knowledge that he would probably be alone for the next couple of hours considering it was likely that Castiel and his friends had no desire to sit with him.

Ten minutes into his cheeseburger, five people piled into his booth, a packet of chocolate thrown into the centre of the table and conversation continuing without pause. Startled, Dean glanced up to find himself opposite Balthazar, Gadreel and Hannah. He turned to his left to find Cas seated next to him and Meg perched at the end of the booth.

Castiel offered him a smile and Dean hesitantly returned it, spirits lifting at the realisation that things weren’t awkward between them.

“Stop complaining, Balthazar,” scoffed Gadreel. “You’ve had a whole month to do this assignment. It’s more than my professors give me.”

Balthazar shot him a dirty look. “The point remains that I’m still nine-hundred words below the requirement.”

Gadreel smirked. “You should have thought about that before going to all those freshers’ house parties at the beginning of the month.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Unlike you, I enjoy having fun.” He leaned forwards so he could see Hannah. “Your life must have become incredibly boring since meeting him.”

Gadreel elbowed his side as Hannah cracked a smile at their antics. She glanced over at Balthazar as she curled an arm around her boyfriend’s middle.

“On the contrary… I now think my bedroom is the most interesting room of the house.” She paused as a smirk pulled at her lips. “And the bathroom, and the living room and the dining room…”

Balthazar’s baguette hovered half way to his mouth as his eyes blew wide and he stared at Hannah for a few moments before flicking his gaze to a smug-looking Gadreel.

“Sounds like you’re marking your territory,” snorted Balthazar before winking at Hannah. “Has he peed on the couch yet?”

Gadreel’s smirk instantly fell as Hannah bit back a giggle.

“No,” she hummed. “But he is fond of the ball gag I bought him.”

Meg choked as Dean and Castiel’s eyes blew wide. Balthazar squeaked in surprise and Gadreel’s face burned red.

“You never bought me a ball gag!” Gadreel spluttered as Hannah shot him a wolfish grin.

“Not yet,” she corrected.

Balthazar looked absolutely delighted as the others began to relax. He leaned closer to Hannah, ignoring Gadreel’s protests.

“Wait, how kinky is he?” Balthazar whispered, just loud enough for the entire table to hear.

“His tentacle porn magazines barely fit under his bed,” Hannah teased.

Balthazar grinned. “Is he a furry?”

“There’s a fox costume hanging in his closet,” winked Hannah.

Balthazar beamed before turning to Gadreel. “I bet you watch the crap out of My Little Pony.”

“He has all their merchandise,” snickered Hannah. “Even the pillow cases.”

Gadreel eyed Balthazar and Hannah with a long-suffering look. “Would you like me to move so you can discuss my sexual fantasies in more depth?”

Balthazar perked up. “Ooo what kind of sexual fantasies do you have, darling?”

“Ones where you are gagged and bound and being shipped across the ocean back to France,” said Gadreel drily.

“Am I naked?” Winked Balthazar as Hannah began to laugh.

“If it pleases you,” snorted Gadreel.

Balthazar grinned and without seeming to notice his own movements, he slid an arm around Gadreel’s shoulders and leaned closer to Hannah again.

“Tell me more of Gadreel’s kinks,” he purred as the older man rolled his eyes but didn’t seem inclined to shove the Frenchman away.

“Well… he’s recently got into roleplay,” began Hannah and Gadreel sighed but listened to their chatter anyway. It was rather amusing after all and if it made them happy, he wouldn’t complain. Much.

“Did you have a good weekend?” Asked Castiel quietly and Dean turned to him and nodded, letting the others’ conversation fade into background noise.

“How’s your, uh…” He nodded down to Castiel’s crotch and the older man quirked his lips.

“Uncomfortable at times but undamaged at least.”

Dean relaxed but couldn’t wipe the guilty expression from his face. “Sorry. Again. Didn’t mean to try to castrate you.”

Castiel chuckled and shook his head. “Accidents happen. How’s your wrist?”

Dean glanced down at his left hand. “Actually, it’s fine. Obviously not as sprained as I thought.”

Castiel smiled, pleased and returned to his lunch. It looked green and fresh and like something Sam would approve of.

“Um… thanks. For inviting me,” Dean murmured, making Castiel look up. “I had fun. Well, until I almost made you sterile.”

Castiel’s gaze softened. “You’re quite welcome, Dean.” He paused and tilted his head. “You know you can join us whenever you wish to? You don’t have to sit alone and when we make plans, you’re invited to all of them.” Castiel’s brows furrowed slightly. “You looked surprised when we came to sit with you.”

Dean blinked and tried to wrap his head around the idea of being accepted into this little group without any hidden conditions. He hadn’t bought his way in and he wasn’t sleeping with any of them and he hadn’t done them any favours. They just… liked his company. Was this what real friendship felt like?

“Don’t look so shocked, Winchester,” snorted Meg. “You’re actually an okay guy now you’ve dropped the stupid Playboy act. In fact… you’re pretty fun.”

Dean felt a slow smile crawling over his face as Meg returned to her lunch, ignoring his brightening expression.

They thought he was fun?

“Hey, do you guys want to come over for another movie night after college? Dinner at ours?” He blurted before he could stop himself.

The others paused their conversation to stare at him before nodding and shrugging lazily.

“Sure,” said Balthazar as Hannah smiled at Dean.

Meg popped a grape in her mouth and offered him a ‘thumbs up’ and Castiel quirked his lips.

“What time do you want us around?” 

“Straight after college is fine,” hummed Dean, excitement bubbling in his chest for the evening ahead. He should probably text Sam and Gabriel to let them know he had friends coming over. He could make that special chorizo pasta Gabriel had taught him last week.

Conversation continued around him as he made a mental note of what he was going to do that evening. He could break the sweet stuff out… maybe make a quick dessert? Or should they order a takeaway? Have a buffet of Chinese? It would be more party-like and that way, it wouldn’t feel like a formal meal. That sounded good; he could order Chinese and maybe make an easy dessert for after. Everybody loved cookie dough, right?

He felt someone’s gaze on him and turned to Castiel to find the man smiling gently at him, eyes bright with… amusement, maybe? He looked as though he knew what Dean had been thinking about and wasn’t sure whether to chuckle or feel sorry for him.

“You’re always welcome with us,” Castiel offered quietly before casting his gaze back to his salad and Dean stared at him for a moment and wondered why he hadn’t dropped Gordon and Alastair and the others sooner. He wondered how he’d ever thought they were his friends in the first place.

With a blossoming grin, he took another bite of his burger.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel chuckled as Sam nuzzled into his neck, placing tiny kisses against his throat. 

Ellen had called on Sunday morning, begging Gabriel to come in for another shift because Benny had contracted food poisoning and their other chef (who Gabriel had yet to meet) was once again uncontactable. Gabriel had hurried out to _The Roadhouse_ and had only returned much later that evening. Sam had been finishing off a project due the upcoming week and so they had barely seen one another all day.

Fortunately, today they had both had half days of lectures and were free to spend the rest of their time together. Sam apparently wanted to make up for a lost day of cuddling.

They were sprawled out over the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background as Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel to stop him from rolling off the end of the couch. Their legs were tangled, Gabriel on his back and Sam facing him, and the older man couldn’t stop smiling as Sam mouthed at his collar bone and nosed into his throat. Gabriel closed his eyes and relaxed into Sam’s hold, basking in the feeling of being wanted.

Sam shifted to pepper kisses over his jaw and cheek and Gabriel hummed in approval. After a couple of minutes of Sam nuzzling his light stubble and nipping playfully at his jaw, Gabriel rolled over to face the younger man. Sam slipped his arms more comfortably around Gabriel and the older man tangled a hand in Sam’s long hair, scratching gently at his scalp just because he knew the younger man would enjoy it. As expected, Sam’s eyes fluttered closed and Gabriel took the opportunity to claim the other man’s lips.

Sam was enthusiastic in reciprocating and they licked inside one another’s mouths for a moment before Sam’s arm finally began to die after being underneath Gabriel for so long. Gabriel grunted in surprise when he was dragged onto Sam’s chest, suddenly draped on top of the younger man. He smiled though when Sam’s arms snaked around him again and he pressed his mouth against the younger man’s neck, searing hot kisses into the tanned skin.

Sam stroked his back contentedly and when Gabriel nipped at his collar bone, the taller man dropped a hand to Gabriel’s rump, squeezing lightly.

Gabriel leaned into the large palm and sealed their lips together once more. The kiss was rougher this time, with Gabriel sliding his tongue over Sam’s and ending it with a nip to his lower lip. Sam kissed him again, hard and insistent and Gabriel nestled into the warmth of the taller man’s broad body beneath his. He could get used to this feeling of belonging somewhere, to someone.

The hand he didn’t have occupied in Sam’s hair, Gabriel used to slowly skate down the other man’s side; up and down like a claim until it finally came to rest on his hip, where fingers curled possessively.

Sam tasted like berries, probably from breakfast, and the tanginess combined with the sweetness made Gabriel hungry for more as he lapped inside Sam’s mouth, discovering every crevice and surface he could.

He smirked when Sam’s hand rucked up his shirt, sliding beneath it as it traced bare skin. Nails scraped lightly over his back as a hand squeezed his ass, firmer this time and Gabriel stretched over Sam’s body happily. Sam’s hand was warm and possessive against his skin and Gabriel wanted to stay like this forever.

He pulled away from Sam’s mouth to kiss the spot beneath his ear, before slowly working his way across Sam’s jaw and finally to his throat, and Sam easily bared his neck to him, encouraging Gabriel to lick and nip at the sensitive flesh. He sucked hotly at Sam’s throat and, with a smirk now that he was in the position he wanted, he slowly rolled his hips.

Sam’s breath hitched for a brief second before he tightened his grip on Gabriel’s ass and rocked his own hips upwards. Gabriel nipped Sam’s throat harder and slipped his hand under the younger man’s shirt to rest on his bare waist. He wanted to feel Sam’s soft skin beneath his fingertips.

Gabriel rolled his hips again, slow and deep and he almost purred at the feeling of Sam’s growing hardness pushing back. It was good to know that he hadn’t lost his charms despite being nearly a decade older than Sam.

He inhaled sharply when Sam’s fingers worked their way under his belt and into his underwear before splaying over a fleshy ass cheek. Sam began to rub the area slowly, squeezing and kneading until Gabriel was nuzzling into his neck in appreciation. He began to unbutton Sam’s shirt, starting from the top, and for every patch of skin that was revealed to him, he pressed a hot kiss to it until he couldn’t go any lower without sliding off Sam’s growing erection, and he really didn’t want to do that.

Instead, he wrapped his lips around a nipple and jerked his hips roughly, smirking triumphantly when he heard Sam’s quiet groan.

He jerked his hips again, forwards and backwards so he could feel the delicious drag of Sam’s stiff bulge against his and he suddenly really wished neither of them were wearing jeans so he could feel just how hard they both were. He sucked at Sam’s nipple, concentrating on the way the younger man was squeezing and palming his ass as though it would encourage Gabriel to move faster. Gabriel complied and they began rutting against each other roughly, their jeans far too tight for their tastes.

Suddenly, Sam swung upright into a normal sitting position on the couch, perching Gabriel in his lap as he claimed the older man’s mouth fiercely, one hand still lost in the back of Gabriel’s jeans and the other up the back of his shirt. Sam’s shirt fell open to reveal miles of toned skin and Gabriel pushed forwards, wishing his own chest was bare so he could feel that inviting body brushing against his own.

Gabriel moved his hips faster, smirking into Sam’s mouth when the younger man parted his legs a little more for Gabriel to gain better access. Gabriel slung his arms around Sam’s neck and rubbed himself against the younger man, adoring how perfectly he fit against Sam like this. Sam was straining against his jeans now and Gabriel pressed into him deep and hard, making them both pant into one another’s mouths, so he did it again and again, nearly shaking at the combination of pleasure and pain from being constricted by such unforgiving clothing.

His lips were swollen from Sam kissing them so roughly, nipping them whenever he got the chance, and Gabriel loved every second of it; of Sam craving him like this, wanting him in every sense of the word. 

Sam’s fingers were straying from his ass cheek, suddenly groping both and wandering lower until they brushed his hole.

Gabriel bit Sam’s lip in encouragement, far too turned on than he had any right to be, and Sam smoothed a finger over his hole again, light and teasing. He circled the area for a moment and Gabriel rutted against him insistently, excited for what was to come.

His throat nearly dried up in horror when Sam removed his hand completely from his jeans and he wondered if he’d scared him off, but then the younger man unbuckled Gabriel’s belt and pressed two fingers into his mouth to wet them, before sliding them into Gabriel’s underwear again and stroking over his hole.

A finger slipped in after a moment, its entrance eased a little by saliva and Gabriel ravished Sam’s mouth hungrily as the younger man pressed in and out of him slowly. 

They moved against one another slow and deep as Sam explored a new part of Gabriel and they were so focused on one another’s breathy groans and quiet panting and the taste of each other’s tongues, that they didn’t recognise the sound of the front door opening.

_“Oh, come on!”_

Their eyes blew wide at Dean’s scarred shout and they tossed their gazes over the back of the couch to see the man trying to scurry out of the door, confused mumbles sounding behind it.

 _Crap._ Dean had texted them about bringing friends over.

They turned to one another with horrified expressions.

“You have a bedroom! Why didn’t you use it?! Now I have to burn the couch!” Came Dean’s indignant yelling.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Nothing happened,” snapped Gabriel as Sam removed his hand from his jeans with a grimace.

“Then I must have been imagining my baby brother’s fist up your ass!” Hissed Dean from behind the door.

There was some choking from his friends. Sam’s face was burning.

“I’m not a sock puppet, Dean!” Gabriel growled, mood soured now he had to stand and buckle himself up. “It’s not like we could do much without lube anyway,” he grumbled.

Dean made a sound of disgust. “Are you decent?” He huffed.

“Decently cock-blocked,” Gabriel muttered.

The door creaked open and Dean padded into the room cautiously. “I didn’t even know you two were- _come on, seriously?!”_ He groaned as he looked away.

Gabriel frowned and glanced down at the prominent bulge in his jeans. He rolled his eyes.

“We all have the same parts,” he grumbled before glancing at an ashamed Sam. “Let’s go before we scar the Princess any further.”

“Let me turn away,” protested Dean. “I don’t want to see my baby brother with a raging hard-on.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes so hard they almost disappeared into the back of his skull. He grabbed Sam’s hand and they jogged up the stairs.

“If I find one stain on that couch, I’ll end you both,” called Dean.

“Oh please, if we give that couch a DNA test, it’ll come back with you as the father,” snorted Gabriel before he and Sam disappeared into Sam’s room to fix themselves.

They returned a few minutes later looking as innocent as Dean had believed their relationship to be.

Dean had obviously inspected the couch and had deemed them to be telling the truth because his new friends were sitting on it and he was handing out drinks. There was a small pile of bags in the corner, filled with college work and clothes, which probably meant Dean had invited the group to stay overnight.

As they approached, Dean narrowed his eyes at them.

“So, are you two… a thing now?”

Gabriel lifted his chin defiantly and slipped his hand into Sam’s. As much as he liked Dean, he would not be intimidated by the Big Brother Talk.

“We are,” he said firmly.

Surprisingly, Dean’s expression softened. “About time,” he huffed before scurrying into the kitchen for the last few drinks.

Gabriel blinked and tilted his gaze up to Sam. 

“That went… well,” he said.

Sam hummed in agreement and he squeezed Gabriel’s hand before grabbing two dining chairs and placing them opposite one of the couches, so they were included in the circle of Dean’s friends. 

Meg eyed them coyly, a smirk teasing at her lips.

“Who bottoms?”

Castiel elbowed her sharply as Sam’s cheeks flushed bright pink. Gabriel leaned back against his chair, tossing a careless arm around the back of Sam’s.

“Haven’t got that far. I’ll volunteer when we do.”

If it was possible, Sam cheeks flushed even brighter and a grin pulled at Gabriel’s lips.

Meg eyed Sam pointedly. “Looks like it’ll be a tight fit.”

“Alright, enough,” huffed Castiel, shooting Meg a filthy glare. “We don’t need to learn Gabriel’s favourite sexual positions and poor Sam looks as though he wants the floor to swallow him whole.”

Meg merely winked at Sam as Gabriel placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it soothingly.

Dean returned a few moments with the remaining drinks, which he passed around before fishing in his pocket for his phone.

“How does Chinese takeout sound to everyone?” He asked, smiling when he received a round of enthusiastic nodding. “We can get a banquet. Anyone have any particular preferences?”

A ten-minute discussion ensued, comparing the pros and cons of duck à l’orange and Szechuan chicken. Once they had decided on eight main dishes and some spring rolls, Dean called the restaurant and requested a delivery.

“How much do we owe you, Dean?” Asked Gadreel once the younger man had shoved his phone into his pocket.

Dean shook his head. “On me.”

Hannah frowned. “You can’t possibly pay for all of us.”

Dean chuckled and held his hands up. “Trust me, I can. Besides, I invited you here. I’m not gonna make you pay for your own dinner.”

“Remember what I said about buying people’s affection,” Castiel reminded quietly, but Dean shook his head again.

“What’s the point in having money if I can’t enjoy spending it with friends?”

Castiel snapped his mouth shut and Dean knew he’d won. “Sam, make yourself useful and put some music on or something. I’m gonna go set the table.”

As he disappeared into the kitchen, he ignored the way Castiel’s surprised gaze bored into the back of his head.

 

* * *

 

A couple of hours later saw the group fully immersed in Jurassic World (which Dean insisted wasn’t as good as the original trilogy, but was still pretty good, earning himself an eye roll from both Sam and Gabriel). Castiel had never watched the original trilogy, which had sparked a heated discussion between most of the group and had resolved with Castiel proposing a marathon of the original Jurassic Park movies at his place during the upcoming week.

They had already ploughed through half of the Chinese and were still going, despite the argument on which was the best dinosaur. 

“Indominus Rex isn’t even a real dinosaur!” Protested Meg. “Of course she’ll beat everything else to a pulp – she was designed that way. You can’t pick a fake dinosaur.”

“Prove to me that she didn’t exist,” grinned Balthazar. “Maybe we just haven’t unearthed her fossils yet.”

Dean let the argument float over his head as he turned his focus to his beef in black bean sauce. It was warming having the suite filled with people who didn’t constantly ask to borrow his stuff (and rarely give it back); people who appreciated the suite rather than judged him for it.

He blinked when Castiel tapped his arm. He still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to sit next to the other man when the couch had already been full. It hadn’t been his idea to fit four people on a three-person couch.

“Thank you for dinner,” Castiel said quietly, so as not to disturb the others. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”

Dean felt a smile crawling across his face. “You’re welcome,” he replied. He was pretty certain he understood what Cas meant when he talked about buying friendship, but this was different. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone this time. He wanted to pay because this was a treat – a sort of thank you for forgiving him for everything he’d done. They hadn’t been obligated to let him join their group (and after everything he’d done, they should’ve probably kept away from him), yet they had and they’d stood up for him against his old… crew. He was grateful and he wanted to do something nice for them. 

“…So… you consider us your friends now?” Asked Castiel, expression neutral and Dean hesitated for a moment, wondering if maybe he’d misread their intentions. A blast of cold ran through his body.

“I mean… if you don’t want to be, that’s fine. I get it. I just thought- ”

Castiel gently brushed his fingers over Dean’s arm to cut him off. Dean thought Castiel was being very tactile today.

“That was worded poorly,” Castiel murmured. He smiled, small and fond in a way that Dean suddenly didn’t know how to deal with. “I’m glad you consider us your friends. I was hoping the feeling wasn’t one-sided.”

Dean perked up at that and Castiel’s expression seemed to soften even further. Dean couldn’t tear his gaze away from that gorgeous sapphire gaze, the corners of Castiel’s eyes wrinkled with happiness. His lips were curved upwards slightly and Dean wanted to keep that expression on the other man’s face forever. He wished he could take a picture, so he could look at the image of a smiling Castiel whenever he wanted to and remind himself that he caused that expression – that he could do a few things right and make something beautiful.

He was getting poetic. Time to drop his gaze.

He stared at his shoes. He needed to stop doing this to Castiel. It wasn’t fair to keep thinking about him as anything more than a friend. He vaguely remembered making a bet over coaxing Castiel into bed and he grimaced guiltily. How long ago had that been? It didn’t matter… he wasn’t like that anymore. Castiel’s friendship meant more to him than any stupid Playboy reputation he’d built.

“I finally opened that honey you bought me,” hummed Castiel. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

Dean frowned in confusion for a second before the memory came to him. That had been quite a while ago, when they were arguing, no less.

“You said you liked bees,” Dean shrugged for lack of anything else to say.

Castiel’s smile widened and Dean wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve that, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Hey, I saw somewhere that there’s gonna be some live music at the park tomorrow night. Do you wanna go?” Asked Dean before he had a chance to stop himself.

Castiel’s gaze shone as he nodded and Dean really had to stop noticing the dude’s eyes.

“I would love to,” Castiel murmured, tone as fond as his expression.

Dean was suddenly very aware of how close they were squished together on the couch. He could feel the heat of Castiel’s leg pressing into his, smell the faint scent of aftershave clinging to his skin. Castiel always smelled so clean, yet he looked like he’d just stepped out of a storm with that slightly oversized trench coat and the fluffy hair that could never decide where it belonged. Dean smiled to himself. Just because he wasn’t supposed to be thinking of Castiel as anything more than a friend, it didn’t mean he couldn’t muse over how adorable the man was.

“Awesome. Meet you there at seven? I’ll bring drinks,” Dean said before Castiel thought he was being a creep for staring at him for too long.

“I’ll bring snacks,” hummed Cas before he dropped his gaze. “And I promise I’ll show up this time.”

Dean pulled a face. “Forget about that. I deserved it anyway.”

“I shouldn’t have done that to you,” Castiel mumbled.

Dean shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter. Just bring that pretty face tomorrow and we can pretend last time never happened.” His eyes widened as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Had he just called Cas pretty?

Castiel obviously hadn’t missed the slip either and an amused smile quirked his lips.

“You think I’m pretty?” He teased quietly, leaning a little closer so no one else could hear their conversation.

Dean licked his lips. He should say something witty so Castiel would think he meant it as a joke.

“Yeah.” _Great comeback, Winchester._

Castiel blinked in surprise as Dean’s face began to burn in embarrassment. 

“No, I mean you’re… you’ve got pretty eyes,” Dean stumbled, face flaming as he realised he was making things worse.

Castiel’s eyes widened and Dean wished the couch would absorb him so he’d never have to see another human being again.

“Well… do you think I’m pretty?” Dean huffed, not knowing how else to get himself out of the situation. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad if Castiel began stuttering over the question.

“Pretty bad at flirting,” Castiel said without missing a beat.

Dean closed his eyes and tried not to groan. Of course Castiel would have a quip. He wasn’t a bumbling mess like Dean was.

Castiel was silently laughing at him, he could tell. 

“So… what is it about my eyes that you find pretty?” Castiel teased.

Dean elbowed him and crossed his arms petulantly as Castiel’s grin grew wider.

“Could you get lost in their ocean-blue depths?” Castiel whispered as Dean sunk lower into his seat.

“…Shut up,” he grumbled.

Castiel chuckled softly and relaxed into the couch as he returned his attention to the TV. A few moments of silence passed between them.

“Do I have pretty lips too?”

Dean closed his eyes and elbowed Castiel as hard as he could, face red at Castiel’s quiet laughter.

 

* * *

 

“Sam. You have a room. Please use it,” groaned Dean, voice barely above a whisper so as not to wake the sleeping Meg who had managed to shove Balthazar off the couch so she could curl up in his seat. “Nobody wants to see you sucking blood out of Gabe’s neck.”

Sam shot his brother a sleepy bitchface and returned to nuzzling the junction between Gabriel’s shoulder and neck. He pressed his lips to the tender skin and sucked another hickey into it. Gabriel closed his eyes contentedly, shifting his head to one side so Sam had better access and he relaxed further into the arms the younger man had thrown around him possessively. He placed his hand over one of Sam’s with a happy sigh.

The movie was long since over and they had switched the TV onto some random station to provide some background noise for their chatter. Now it was nearing half-past midnight and people were growing sleepy (and in some cases, overly affectionate).

“Sam, I swear. I’ll throw ice over you if you don’t go to bed,” threatened Dean.

Sam scowled and glared at his brother before standing up tiredly and pulling Gabriel with him. The pair wandered over to the stairs, barely able to keep their hands off one another and Dean rolled his eyes, even as Castiel chuckled softly beside him.

On the two-person couch, Hannah and Gadreel were cuddled together, chatting quietly with Balthazar, who had managed to squeeze himself beside them both when Meg had literally kicked him off the other couch. Hannah was leaning into Gadreel, his arm around her middle as they both faced Balthazar.

Dean wondered if any of them realised that Balthazar’s hand was strewn over the back of the couch, hand lightly stroking Gadreel’s hair as Hannah brushed her fingers over the leg Balthazar had pressed into hers.

Dean tilted his head and made a mental note to keep an eye on that relationship.

“I don’t believe they’ve noticed yet,” whispered Castiel beside his ear, making Dean startle a little. He turned to the other man with a raised eyebrow and Castiel offered him a knowing look in return.

Meg mumbled something in her sleep and kicked out at Castiel. Cas grunted and tried to shuffle away, only to find himself being pressed into Dean’s side. He glanced up at Dean apologetically.

Dean grinned lopsidedly and tossed his arm over the back of the couch, stroking Cas’ hair in a playful re-enactment of Balthazar’s actions.

Castiel bit back a laugh and began rubbing Dean’s leg sensually, exaggerating Hannah’s movements.

“Want me to copy Sam?” Dean winked.

“From which time? The neck-sucking or the fisting?” Teased Castiel.

Dean choked and quickly pulled his hand away from Cas’ hair as he stared at his lap. Castiel was laughing silently beside him.

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the idea of it being him who had made Castiel’s shoulders shake with joy. He decidedly liked the other man’s smile – Cas deserved to be happy.

He whipped his head around when pressure settled against his side again and he realised Castiel was leaning on him, eyes beginning to close as a smile lingered on his face.

Dean’s chest stirred with warmth the longer he watched Castiel relax against him. How was a grown man this adorable?

“…You can have my bed if you want,” Dean murmured. “It beats getting kicked in the face by Meg.”

Castiel didn’t open his eyes. “Still trying to get me into your bed, Dean?” He teased.

Dean couldn’t wipe the tiny smile from his lips. He liked playful Cas.

“I don’t think it counts when I’m not in there with you.”

Castiel frowned. “You’re offering your bed to me but you’re not going to be in it? Where would you sleep?”

“Floor,” Dean hummed. “I’d stay down here, grab a couple blankets…”

“And they say chivalry is dead,” hummed Castiel. “I’m not taking your bed, Dean. Your carpet is more than comfortable. Although a spare pillow would be great.”

Without thinking, Dean slid his arm around Castiel’s middle. “You sure? You’re welcome to the bed.”

Castiel leaned his head against Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you, but the floor is fine.”

“Alright, I’ll grab you some blankets and a couple of pillows,” murmured Dean, marvelling at how soft Cas’ hair was. “I’ll bring some extras for the others,” he added as he glanced at Meg.

“Thank you,” whispered Castiel, body warm against Dean’s and there was a moment where Dean let his guard drop and he gave into the desire to nuzzle into Castiel’s hair.

He caught himself a few seconds later but he swore he felt Cas’ fingers brush against the hand he had wrapped around the older man’s middle.

“Sorry,” Dean grimaced as he released Castiel and stood up to prevent himself from doing anything else inappropriate. He watched Cas clasp his hands together and stare at his lap, a frown gracing his features. Dean scolded himself for making things awkward between them once again.

He shuffled away to grab the pillows and blankets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait! Exam period was hectic but now I should be able to get back to this fic! I doubt I'll be able to do Wednesday and Saturday updates, but I'll try to get at least a chapter a week out!


	21. Chapter 21

Tuesday rolled around and the group set off for college together after a relaxing morning involving Winchester-made pancakes. Breakfast set everyone in a good mood and the Winchesters’ fancy coffee machine was the topic of conversation as they all made their way down to their respective cars.

If it had occurred to the Winchesters to look in Dean’s old diary – the one in which he used to keep a tally of all his ‘conquests’ – they would have realised that this particular Tuesday marked the penultimate day to the deadline of the bet to bed Castiel. Since they hadn’t checked, they didn’t know there was only two days left of Sam and Dean's forgotten wager.

Nothing spectacular happened at University for any of them. Dean met up with his new friends for lunch, Sam caught up with Kevin and Charlie, Asmodeus found something to complain at Gabriel for… it was a normal day.

University ended and they all went their separate ways, with Dean practically vibrating with excitement in anticipation of another night with Castiel. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so excited to see Cas again, but he was and he was looking forward to the evening. Sam and Gabriel kept teasing him about the crush he had on the other man, but Dean dismissed them because Cas was just his friend. He didn’t want anything more. Couldn’t have anything more.

Still, when Cas joined him on the grass at the park that evening, Dean privately thought how handsome he looked in a black shirt, black jeans and that familiar trench coat. The coat made him smile; he was beginning to associate long coats with Cas now and often found himself people-watching and musing over which styles would suit the other man.

Castiel smiled that small, polite smile of his – the one that touched his eyes and made Dean go all warm and fuzzy inside. Dean offered a grin in return and held out a beer as Cas settled beside him.

Cas took the drink gratefully and swung his bag between them, opening it up for Dean to peek inside. A plethora of savoury and sweet foods greeted him and Dean gasped in awe at the mini blueberry pie that was carefully placed on top of the pile.

“I recall you saying something about liking pie,” hummed Cas with a tiny knowing smirk.

“Marry me,” Dean groaned as he removed the pie from the bag as though it was a priceless piece of art.

Castiel’s smile widened, pleased. “Not until you buy me a ring.”

“I’ll buy you anything you want if you keep giving me these,” said Dean as he ripped open the packaging. “I hope you weren’t expecting me to share this.”

Castiel huffed out a laugh as the band began their first set. There were two guitarists, a drummer, a bassist and strangely, a violinist. Still, their opening chords sounded clean and precise and whilst it certainly wasn’t ACDC, Dean was keeping an open mind.

It was a mild evening. The sun had nearly disappeared below the horizon, bathing the sky in a blend of pink and orange, which would very quickly dissolve into black. The moon was just fading into view and there was a gentle breeze rustling between the trees, which was to be expected in November. The nights would soon grow colder and the days would shorten, so these sorts of evenings were to be enjoyed and treasured as they wouldn’t last much longer.

Castiel turned his attention to the band stand, tilting his head slightly as he listened to the music. The instruments somehow complemented one another, despite their differences and the result was a mellow melody that relaxed both the body and mind.

“They could do with a pianist,” hummed Dean teasingly and Cas’ lips quirked upwards for a moment before he arched an eyebrow at Dean.

“I still haven’t heard you play.”

Dean shrugged. “You’re not missing anything.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Dean pulled a face. “Seriously… I’m no Beethoven.”

“That’s because Beethoven didn’t play guitar,” Castiel said as he turned to face Dean properly. “I’d still like to hear you play something.”

“Why?”

Castiel’s expression turned sombre. “Because music is a window to the soul. It gives an insight as to a person’s emotions and their story. The way people play, the style of music they listen to, even their chosen instrument are all little pieces of the puzzle that make up a person’s true self. The very nature of a person can be established just by listening to a few chords.”

Dean hesitated, turning his nose up a little at the idea. “Oh… I see.”

Castiel snorted. “I’m joking. I’m just curious, that’s all. I want to see if you can play any Led Zeppelin.” 

Dean perked up, face brightening. “I keep forgetting you like classic rock.”

“Does that mean you’ll play for me?”

“Will you play Queen or ELO for me if I do?” Smirked Dean.

Castiel shrugged. “Next time you stop at my house.”

“There’s a piano at the suite,” Dean said.

Castiel blinked. “…I didn’t know that.”

Dean grinned. “Next time you come over, I’ll introduce you to her.” He grabbed a plastic fork from Cas’ bag and tucked into the pie, moaning in ecstasy at the first bite.

Castiel stared at him a little wide-eyed for a moment before returning his focus to the band.

An hour passed and Dean decided he liked the music even if it wasn’t something he regularly listened to. Any kind of music that could make Cas smile and his eyes shine like that was good in Dean’s books. 

They shared food and drinks and by the middle of the band’s second set, the stars were twinkling above them in inky darkness, the park’s visitors softening their chatter so as not to disturb the night settling around them. Even Dean and Castiel’s conversation had grown quieter, their voices barely murmurs as they listened to the gentle music and traded stories of their pasts.

Castiel was lying on his back, staring up at the sky as he weaved a tale about his childhood bully from middle school. Dean was on his side, propped up on one elbow as he watched Castiel wave a hand around to emphasise certain parts of the story. 

“There was this one time where he managed to convince half the kids in our grade that my family was part of the Russian mafia. People were genuinely afraid of me and for two months, no one would speak to me. Someone even threatened me with a craft knife from the woodwork rooms.” Castiel shook his head. “I understand that ‘Novak’ isn’t exactly the most American name, but do I really look like a mob boss?”

Dean huffed out a quiet laugh and Castiel smiled, throwing a hand up helplessly.

“I just don’t understand why Metatron hated me so much.”

Dean found his gaze wandering from Castiel’s slightly chapped lips, to the light stubble on his chin, then down his muscular arms and chest, before tracking all the way back up to his captivating eyes, which were focused on him intensely.

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“Maybe he was jealous,” he offered.

“Of chubby twelve-year-old me?” Asked Castiel in amusement, as if he knew exactly where Dean’s attention had just been.

Dean dropped his gaze embarrassedly before gathering the courage to lift it to Castiel’s face once more.

“Well, he had a lot to be jealous of,” he stated firmly. “You were a smart kid, who excelled at music and languages. You were top of your class for pretty much everything. Teachers loved you. You had a nice home and you weren’t exactly unpopular even if you weren’t the coolest kid on the block. Sounds like he envied you.”

Castiel glanced up at the sky contemplatively. “When you put it that way…”

Dean couldn’t resist letting his gaze roam again. Castiel wasn’t as broad as him, but he was by no means weak or skinny. In fact, with the way he was lying, his shirt displayed his biceps and pectorals quite well and Dean could tell they would be firm to touch. A slither of skin was visible just below his belly button, where the ends of his shirt had fallen to the sides with gravity. Dean noted how tanned the skin was and heat pooled low within him when he caught side of the faint trail of hair leading below his belt line. From this angle, Dean could just make out angular hip bones and his eyes lingered a fraction too long on the slight bulge of the other man’s jeans in the crotch area. He raked his gaze slowly up Castiel’s body again, appraising every contour and crevice and he once again realised he’d been caught when blue eyes stared back at him knowingly.

Dean averted his gaze.

It wasn’t his fault that Castiel was gorgeous.

Castiel was silent for a moment before rolling onto his side to face Dean.

“See something you like?” He asked quietly.

Dean snapped his head up. His brain stalled for a second.

“…Yeah,” he admitted, because he still wasn’t any good at witty responses and there was something in Castiel’s gaze that made Dean want to tell the truth.

Castiel licked his lips a little nervously and Dean tracked the movement as heat flared in his belly.

A violin sang out a pensive melody somewhere.

Dean wanted to touch the strip of waist Castiel’s shirt had revealed to him. He remained still.

“What is it you like?” Asked Castiel, voice barely a whisper.

Dean paused but decided he was going to play along, despite his brain screaming at him that he wasn’t supposed to.

“Your eyes and the way they shine under the moonlight,” he murmured. “Your silky hair and how it’s begging to have someone’s fingers carding through it, maybe tugging a little as those pretty lips whimper out soft pleas. Your voice and how it changes tone depending on your emotions. Your hands and the way they dance over a piano, agile and almost teasing.”

He let his gaze fall to the strip of skin visible to him above Castiel’s belt and he reached out slowly, giving Castiel time to swat him away. When that didn’t happen, he let his fingertips brush over the November-chilled skin with a small smirk.

“Your skin and the way your muscles move beneath it, begging me to touch.”

Castiel’s breaths were shallow as Dean drew his hand away, letting it rest on the grass between them and both men stared at one another, acutely aware of the tension building between them.

Castiel gingerly reached out and trailed his fingers down from Dean’s shoulder to the hand splayed over the grass, touch curious and light. Dean held back a shudder in the cool air and Castiel’s fingers retreated.

Feeling bold, Dean slid his hand over Castiel’s waist again, palm settling over bare skin as fingers slipped underneath the hem of his shirt. At Castiel’s wide eyes, Dean stroked his thumb comfortingly underneath his shirt and Cas seemed to relax slightly.

Dean couldn’t believe he was actually touching Cas.

He held back a sharp inhale when Castiel’s fingers spread over his chest, pushing higher and higher before slowly riding back down, palm flush with the fabric of his tee. Castiel’s eyes were trained on the movement of his own hand against Dean’s chest, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was doing.

Dean’s fingers trailed a little higher up Cas’ shirt, exploring more skin and Cas exhaled unsteadily as he closed his eyes. Licking his lips, Dean’s hand rode to the older man’s front, roaming over his belly and the soft hairs there.

With another unsteady breath, Castiel slowly rolled onto his back and Dean eagerly shuffled closer, gaze flitting between Castiel’s face and the progress of his own hand underneath the other man’s shirt.

He smoothed his palm hungrily over Castiel’s stomach and waist, fingers altering their pressure every so often and Castiel’s head tilted backwards, exposing an inviting throat that Dean so desperately wanted to suck at. He restrained himself. Barely.

Castiel’s gaze was suddenly on him, hot and intense and Dean found himself pressing closer until his entire body was flush with the other man’s side. He knew Castiel could feel his half-stiff length jutting into his hip but he didn’t care because he could see that Cas’ jeans were starting to become a bit too tight for him too.

Feeling brave, Dean’s fingertips crept beneath the waistband of Castiel’s jeans, just so he could feel the top of the man’s underwear.

Castiel’s hand curled around his bicep – the one that was helping to prop him up on the grass – gaze encouraging. Dean repeated his movements and Castiel’s other hand glided over Dean’s outstretched arm.

Dean couldn’t remember ever wanting to kiss someone so badly.

His heart sped up as Castiel tugged him a little closer and he removed his fingers from Cas’ waistband only to slide his hand straight down his jeans to rub over the tented crotch. He experimented with a couple of different pressures and smirked when Cas’ hips jutted upwards suddenly, into his palm.

He squeezed gently at the bulge and his smirk widened when Castiel’s own hand slipped over his, increasing the pressure against his crotch.

Dean never took his eyes off Castiel’s blue gaze as he squeezed harder this time and he watched the other man’s Adam’s apple bob enticingly, begging to be sucked or kissed or nipped.

Suddenly, pain exploded at the back of Dean’s head and he cursed and clutched at his skull, squeezing his eyes shut in agony.

“Get a room, Winchester!” Someone crowed behind him, a round of laughter accompanying the male voice and Dean was practically bowing into Castiel’s neck with the agony flaring in his skull.

Castiel snarled out a few choice curses as he grabbed what appeared to be the neck of a broken glass bottle and hurled it back at the offending student.

Then, Dean was being aided to his feet and herded out of the park and towards an ugly mustard-coloured Continental. 

Fingers carded through his hair, pulling out fragments of shattered glass and there was another quiet curse when Cas’ fingertips came back spotted with red.

Dean was carefully guided into the car and in a few minutes, he was outside a familiar house and being led inside.

He’d left Baby back at the park. He told Cas as much.

“I’ll drive you back there tomorrow,” Cas muttered as he pressed a cool, damp cloth to the back of Dean’s skull.

Cas’ eyes were really beautiful this close.

The other man’s cheeks tinged pink.

“Thank you,” he mumbled and Dean realised he must have said that out loud.

Dean sighed contentedly at the coolness of the cloth and he let his head tilt forwards until his forehead was pressed against Castiel’s. This was nice.

“How are you feeling?” Castiel asked, voice oddly choked in Dean’s opinion. He didn’t understand why; this was a very comfortable position.

“Ache-y,” hummed Dean. “A bit dizzy. But better than before.” Castiel smelled amazing. Clean and with the faint scent of dew drops on grass. A little sea salty too.

Castiel coughed awkwardly. “Umm… thank you.”

Oops. Spoke aloud again.

After a couple of minutes, Cas stood with a grimace as his back clicked back into place and he sat beside Dean on the couch, still holding the cloth to the other man’s head.

Dean let his head drop to Castiel’s shoulder, eyes closed as he focused on the other man’s comforting smell. Castiel stiffened a little, but he relaxed when he realised Dean was beginning to nod off.

Soon, Dean was dreaming about blue eyes and gentle hands.

 

* * *

 

Dean’s eyelids fluttered open and he squinted in confusion at warm orange walls and a mahogany bookcase. His fingertips were brushing a fluffy, white rug and he realised he was lying on a couch he only vaguely recognised. This wasn’t his suite.

It took him another moment to process why his back was so hot and what the weight around his middle was. He twisted his neck awkwardly to find Cas snuggled up behind him, face between his shoulder blades and strong grip around his stomach to stop him from rolling off the couch with the two of them stretched out over it.

Frowning again, Dean glanced at the cloth on the floor and tried to remember why he was at Castiel’s house. By the looks of the dim light peeking beneath the curtains, Dean would estimate it was early morning. There was a cushion pressed into his cheek so he would hazard a guess that he stayed over without really meaning to, considering he was still in his clothes from the night before.

Why had Cas stayed on the couch with him when he had a perfectly good bed upstairs?

Dean’s brain stuttered for a moment as his eyes widened.

Had he and Cas….?

He shook his head. Surely not. He’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to do that to Castiel. He’d changed.

Cas sighed contentedly and nuzzled into his back, tightening his grip on his middle.

Dean paled. What if they had? What if he’d been so drunk, he couldn’t even remember it? He didn’t want to hurt Cas. He couldn’t ruin their friendship like this.

Castiel yawned softly.

Dean stiffened. What should he do? Should he pretend he could remember everything so as not to hurt Cas’ feelings? Should he ask Cas what happened? Should he apologise? Should he wait for Cas to react first?

If they had slept together, was it a one-time thing or would Castiel want to do it again? What had he said to Cas last night? Would Cas expect them to be in a committed relationship or would he just want a quick roll in the hay every once in a while? Was Cas even looking for a relationship?

Was Dean? Did he want a relationship with Cas? Would waking up every morning with Cas’ arms wrapped around him be such a bad idea? Would chatting into the night and falling asleep cuddled up on the couch together be a horrible thought? It wasn’t as though he hated being with Cas. In fact, he loved Cas’ little smiles and all the conversations they had. His heart was currently fluttering with the way the other man’s arm was wrapped around him and he could certainly get used to waking up with Cas’ scent blanketing him. 

Castiel was smart and dry-witted and so considerate. He was good-looking too and he was the only person to look past the reputation Dean had built up in order to try to help the man behind the cocky smirks and smooth pick-up lines. Castiel was the first person outside of his brother who cared about Dean; the first person to believe he could be better than he had been. Not to mention Dean was beginning to adore the playful flirt in Castiel that he kept so well-hidden.

Was a relationship with a man like that so unthinkable?

Maybe… if Cas wanted to… they could… try?

Castiel stretched languidly behind him and Dean felt him pause for a second as he tried to work out where he was. Then he propped himself on one elbow and glanced down at Dean, who twisted slightly to look at him.

“Good morning,” hummed Castiel sleepily, hair dreadfully mussed up and Dean wished he could remember tangling his fingers into it the previous evening. He wished he could remember anything about their time together last night.

“Morning,” Dean mumbled, feeling rather ashamed that he couldn’t remember Castiel’s expressions of bliss as Dean sunk into him, or maybe sucked him off, or maybe just stroked him over and over as he pressed doting kisses into his neck and told him how beautiful his smile was and how gorgeous his body was and how much Dean wanted him because he was just so perfect.

…Ok, so maybe Dean wouldn’t be opposed to a relationship with the guy.

“Apologies. I would have carried you to the bed, but you seemed rather reluctant to move last night,” Castiel murmured, gazing down at Dean in a way that had the younger man’s heart nearly bursting out of his chest. He couldn’t remember anyone looking at him like that before.

“I did?” Dean asked quietly, itching to press his lips to Castiel’s.

Castiel smiled one of Dean’s favourite smiles – the fondly amused one that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle.

“When I tried to stand, you woke up and pulled me back down. I just had enough time to close the curtains and grab a cushion for your head before you trapped me against the back of the couch and fell asleep again.”

Dean felt his lips pulling upwards. How thoughtful was this man?

“You nearly rolled off the edge at one point,” hummed Cas. “I had to keep hold of you.” He nodded to the way his arm was still wrapped around Dean.

Dean smirked. “Was that the only reason you were cuddling up to me?” He teased.

Castiel hesitated for a second before shrugging. “Well, I didn’t really get much of a choice. This couch isn’t the widest, especially not for two people.”

“I’m not complaining,” hummed Dean as he snaked one arm underneath Cas and around his back. “It was a nice way to wake up.”

Castiel hesitated for longer this time, a flash of confusion gracing his gaze before it was gone again.

“How are you feeling?” Murmured Cas, carefully relaxing against him.

“Great,” said Dean. “Happy.” He gave the other man a gentle squeeze and a soft smile. “How about you?”

Castiel blinked. “…Good. A little stiff, I suppose.”

Ah, so Cas _had_ bottomed for him last night. Dean wondered why they’d put their clothes on again. He would have loved to wake up to Castiel naked, just to see if it would jog his memory of their activities.

“I give a good massage,” Dean winked.

Castiel stared a moment too long and Dean began to worry that Cas really did want this to be a one-time thing. Why was he acting so weird?

“I’ll… keep that in mind,” mumbled Cas. He frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” murmured Dean before his gaze turned concerned. “Wait, I didn’t… hurt you, did I?” He reached up and gently cupped Cas’ cheek, stroking his thumb over it tenderly.

Cas stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before placing his palm over Dean’s forehead and removing it shortly after.

“Are you sure your head’s alright?” Castiel asked.

Dean paused. His head? How rough had they been last night?

“…My head’s fine. Did we… How drunk were we last night?”

Castiel tilted his head. “Not very. Why?”

Dean sagged a little. He hoped Cas wouldn’t hate him after this. “Well, it’s just… I can’t really remember much and I… I know we… y’know,” he waved his hand vaguely, “but I just can’t… I’ve got no memory of us… and you’re saying we went at it pretty hard, but I just can’t…” He trailed off at Castiel’s round eyes and frowned in confusion.

“What?”

Castiel blinked. “…You think we…” His gaze trailed slowly down Dean’s body before returning to his face. Dean squirmed under the attention. He felt like he’d just made a huge fool of himself.

“You had a mild concussion last night and fell asleep on my shoulder. That’s probably why you can’t remember anything from last night.”

“…Wait, so we didn’t…?”

Castiel shook his head. “Someone threw a bottle at you at the park. I picked glass out of your hair and held a damp cloth to your bleeding head before you dozed off. We didn’t have sex.” Castiel arched an eyebrow.

Dean shrunk in on himself in embarrassment and recoiled the arm he’d slipped around Cas’ back.

“…Man, I’m so sorry. I just assumed… I don’t know why I thought that. It’s not like we’re together or anything and I…I didn’t mean to offend you, I just…”

He could feel his face burning and the longer he babbled, the redder Castiel’s face was growing. They both averted their gazes and Dean rolled off the couch and stood up a little too quickly.

He grimaced as his head throbbed and he clutched at it with a groan, wincing when Castiel immediately scrambled to his feet to help him. The other man placed a protective hand over the back of his head and watched him worriedly as his other hand brushed over Dean’s arm. Why did Cas keep touching him?

“Dean? Where does it hurt? Are you bleeding?”

Dean checked his fingertips and shook his head. “It’s fading. Think it’s just the after-effects.”

Castiel was stroking his arm worriedly and Dean really wished he’d stop.

“I can get another cloth?”

“I’m fine,” murmured Dean as Cas’ fingers began rubbing his head lightly, easing the pain. Dean closed his eyes. He desperately wanted to kiss Cas.

“I need to go,” Dean whispered, pulling away from Cas’ clever fingers. He needed to leave before he did something stupid. Like pushed his crush against a wall and smashed their lips together.

Castiel blinked and took a step away from Dean, as if he’d only just registered his own actions. 

“Ah. Okay. Let me… let me just throw on some clean clothes and I’ll take you to your car.”

Dean stiffened. “Where’s Baby?”

“Back at the park,” Castiel replied before slipping out of the room and running upstairs.

Dean closed his eyes and tried not to groan. Why were things always so difficult between him and Castiel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Dean-centric chapter! Nothing's ever easy for him, is it?


	22. Chapter 22

The deadline of the bet was upon them. By 11:59 pm that evening, the wager would officially end, marking exactly one month from its creation. As it was, Sam was currently on track for winning an Impala.

Not that he remembered any of that.

“I was thinking,” hummed Gabriel as he pressed his lips to Sam’s neck, slow and wet and thoroughly enjoying himself. “There’s an animal rescue not too far from here. What do you say we visit them after class? You finish at one, right?”

Sam tilted his head backwards and let his eyes slip shut as Gabriel worked on his throat. He placed a hand on the shorter man’s head and stroked his hair adoringly.

“Sounds great,” whispered Sam into the darkness. It wasn’t even seven a.m. yet. The sun hadn’t quite managed to fling itself into the sky and the world was quiet outside. Sam’s alarm had woken them both up and the younger man cursed his lecturers for giving him an 8 a.m. class. He’d much rather stay here with Gabriel for another hour.

“Awesome,” breathed Gabriel as he shifted to straddle the taller man. Sam smiled happily and held Gabriel closer as the older man flopped onto his chest and began nosing at his jaw.

Sam slid a hand up Gabriel’s shirt, letting it rest on his bare back. He loved feeling Gabriel’s hot skin beneath his fingertips. Sometimes, he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch the smaller man. Gabriel arched into his palm, peppering his jaw with tiny kisses and Sam sighed contentedly and smoothed his hand up and down Gabe’s back. Gabriel’s own hands slipped under Sam’s soft pyjama shirt. They stroked his sides and roamed over his stomach and Sam chuckled quietly and kissed Gabriel’s forehead. Gabriel nuzzled his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth before wrapping his arms tightly around Sam and tucking his head under the younger man’s chin as he made himself comfortable on his chest.

Sam pressed his nose into silky golden locks and brushed his fingers over Gabe’s back. He loved how cuddly Gabriel was. Even early-morning alarms didn’t seem so bad when Gabriel was there to soothe   
him with a kiss and a snuggle. He was so glad they were both still sharing a bed. Sam smiled as lips made their way to his collarbone. Gabriel began sucking and nipping at the tender skin, teeth scraping lightly over it and making Sam wish he could watch.

“Marking your territory?” He teased quietly into the otherwise silent darkness of the room.

Gabriel shifted slightly until he could reach Sam’s neck. He sucked and nipped and kissed the soft skin and Sam knew there’d be a little bruise by the time he got to the shower. He smiled. It felt good to be wanted.

He only realised Gabriel had managed to unbutton his shirt when he felt the older man’s hands wandering over his chest and down his stomach. He huffed out a laugh and pulled his arms out of the sleeves before wrapping them around Gabriel once more.

Once he was satisfied with the hickey he’d left on Sam’s neck, Gabriel wriggled lower so he could plant wet kisses over Sam’s chest. The younger man’s heart melted and he slid his fingers into Gabriel’s hair, scratching his scalp gently because he knew Gabriel liked it.

Gabriel tightened his grip on Sam and began nuzzling at one of his nipples and Sam sank deeper into the mattress.

“Gabe,” whispered Sam when the older man flicked his tongue over the tiny nub.

Gabriel smirked and sucked lightly at Sam’s nipple instead. Sam exhaled slowly and tried to convince himself that fooling around with Gabriel was a bad idea because he’d be late for class.

Gabriel shifted to give the other nipple the same treatment and Sam pawed gently at the shorter man’s shirt. Gabriel sat upright and pulled the shirt over his head, uncaring of where it landed as he sprawled over Sam once more and resumed the attention to his nipple. Sam’s hands roamed greedily over Gabriel’s newly bared back. He basked in the feeling of Gabriel’s warm skin pressed into his and he hummed happily when the older man slid up his body again, their chests flush with one another as they slotted their mouths together. It was a little dry and there was a hint of morning breath, but neither of them cared because being together like this just felt so right. Sam pulled away to nip and suck and kiss Gabriel’s neck and the older man made a soft sound of encouragement as he closed his eyes and let his hands wander over Sam’s strong arms and chest.

Sam’s lips sailed over to Gabriel’s shoulder, marking the skin there too and Gabriel spread his legs a little wider until he was straddling Sam’s waist, their bodies still pressed together. Sam’s hands came to rest possessively over Gabriel’s back.

“I need to get up,” he said apologetically.

Gabriel nuzzled his jaw. “I could help,” he hummed and Sam startled as something squeezed his rear. Gabriel snickered softly.

Honestly, Gabriel touching and kissing him in the bathroom as he got ready for class sounded amazing. 

“As much as I’d love that, you should go back to sleep. Get another hour in before you have to go to work,” whispered Sam as he kissed Gabriel’s forehead.

Gabriel’s gaze softened and he nuzzled Sam’s jaw again.

“I want to be with you though,” he murmured.

Sam squeezed him gently. “And I’d love to spend all day in bed with you, but I really do have to get up.”

Just as he began to carefully roll Gabriel off him, Sam was dragged into a searing kiss and he found himself suddenly straddling Gabriel as hands cupped his cheeks and a tongue slid between his lips. He kissed back hard wrapping his hands around the other man as he relished the feeling of Gabriel’s skin against his for a few moments longer. He pulled away and quickly latched onto Gabriel’s neck, layering it with kisses and nips as Gabriel sighed contentedly. A hand ventured to his ass, rubbing slowly over one cheek and Sam held Gabriel tighter in encouragement.

“You sure you don’t want me getting up with you?” Teased Gabriel quietly.

Sam kissed his head again and pulled Gabriel’s hands away, pinning them above his head. “Sleep,” he said, a smile quirking his lips as he stared at the adorable man below him.

He laughed softly into Gabriel’s mouth when the shorter man crushed their lips together again. Their kiss was messy and soon turned rough when Gabriel fought weakly against Sam’s hold on him. Then, Gabriel wrapped his legs around the younger man’s hips and Sam could feel the want building inside him. Gabriel sucked Sam’s bottom lip between his teeth and Sam couldn’t resist pressing deeper into Gabe’s body. He could feel the other man’s growing erection pressing into his stomach and it wasn’t the first time he’d yearned to rid Gabe of his thin sleeping shorts.

Gabriel rolled his hips slowly and Sam let out a quiet groan as Gabe’s length slid over his bare belly. 

He released Gabriel’s hands reluctantly. “I need to go shower.”

Gabriel tugged him down again and slipped a hand between their bodies.

“I could help with that,” he whispered as he began palming Sam’s own erection through his pyjamas.

Sam lunged for Gabriel’s mouth as Gabriel fondled his balls. 

“Is that what you want?” Sam panted. “It’s not even seven.”

“I want you all the time, Sam,” Gabriel breathed and his hands fumbled for the younger man’s waistband. Sam gasped as Gabriel’s hand slipped under his pyjamas and gripped his dick.

He thrust into Gabriel’s hand and groaned into the other man’s mouth. Gabriel’s other hand tangled into his hair, holding him in place as Sam jerked his hips again.

“I want to suck you off in the shower,” Gabriel murmured and Sam’s breath hitched before he pulled away from his lover with a great amount of effort. He grabbed Gabriel’s hand to stop it from getting him even more worked up and he admired the gorgeous body beneath him for a moment before stepping out of bed.

He drew his pants down slowly, well aware that Gabriel’s gaze was laser focused on him and he smirked at the sight of Gabriel’s shorts tenting upwards.

He said nothing as he disappeared into the bathroom and he relieved his bladder before brushing his teeth. He glanced up at the mirror and caught sight of Gabriel leaning in the doorway, gaze raking over his body hungrily. He held back an excited shudder and set his toothbrush away before wiping his mouth and starting the shower. He stepped inside and just stood under the spray for a few moments, listening to Gabriel brush his teeth and relieve his own bladder, and he closed his eyes, letting the steamy water relax his muscles. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

Suddenly, an inviting heat plastered itself against his back as hands slid around his stomach and Sam let out a shaky breath as kisses were peppered up his spine. He shuddered involuntarily, unable to contain his eagerness for this new step in their relationship. He wondered if they were going too fast, but then Gabriel’s hands began roaming over his chest and stomach and sides and Sam decided he didn’t care.

“This would be more effective with soap,” purred Gabriel between open mouthed kisses against Sam’s back.

Sam snatched the soap off its holder and squirted a generous amount into Gabriel’s waiting palm. Gabriel smiled in amusement and began lathering Sam up, spreading the cool liquid over every inch of his skin with the kind of dedication that made Sam want to pin his lover against a wall. He let out an unsteady breath when Gabriel’s hand slipped lower and lower until it was once again gripping Sam’s impressive erection. The younger man groaned as Gabriel stroked him slow and teasing, the soap providing a sort of lubrication that had Sam rocking his hips into Gabe’s fist.

After a few moments, Gabriel quickly rinsed Sam off and Sam barely had time to mourn the loss of Gabriel’s hand because his back was suddenly against the wall and Gabriel was on his knees, soaking wet and eyes twinkling with mischief as he glanced up at Sam from the level of the younger man’s crotch.

Sam made a pathetic sound as Gabriel wrapped his lips around his length. The older man swallowed him down expertly, a hand fondling his balls as he did so and Sam had to stop himself from thrusting into his lover’s mouth. His hands searched for purchase on the slippery tiles and Gabriel smirked around him and flicked his tongue over the sensitive flesh. Sam could barely breathe as he watched Gabriel lick and suck him as though he was one of the candies he adored so much. The older man’s amber eyes were sparkling as water droplets cascaded down his glowing skin and Sam’s lips parted in awe. How had he managed to find someone so beautiful? How had he managed to find someone who didn’t only look amazing, but someone who had an enormous heart and a sharp mind and a mischievous side that put even the naughtiest child to shame?

He was quickly falling for Gabriel and honestly, he couldn’t see a single thing wrong with that.

Gabriel seemed to be enjoying himself as he worked on Sam’s erection and Sam watched him intently for a few more moments, thoroughly entranced with Gabriel’s slowly reddening lips and the way he was nearly cross-eyed in his eagerness to take anything the younger man was willing to give him. Sam decided this wasn’t how he wanted their first time to go and he gently pushed Gabriel off him before dragging the man to his feet and kissing him as though his life depended on it. Gabriel seemed confused but more than happy to comply and he let Sam ravish his mouth, humming when Sam hoisted his legs onto his hips and flipped their positions until he was pressed into the wall instead.

When their erections slid together for the first time, Gabriel shoved a hand into Sam’s hair and kissed him harder, jerking his hips in search of more friction. Sam smirked against his mouth and wrapped a hand around them both and they groaned quietly as they slid against one another.

“Sam…” Gabriel breathed, resting their foreheads together as they began to pant. In response, Sam sped up his fist, jerking them both harder and faster until they were clutching at one another in pleasure.

They stole rough kisses and nips, holding each other tighter as they thrust into Sam’s fist together, and within a few minutes, it was over and they were leaning into one another, trying to catch their breaths. They shared more kisses, these ones gentle and adoring, and then Sam squirted some soap into his palm and began to rub Gabriel down, nuzzling at his soft skin and touching every inch of it that he could, just because he was allowed to. He still couldn’t quite believe that Gabriel was his.

Gabriel groaned when Sam turned him around and began soaping down his spent member. Sam chuckled and buried his nose into the back of Gabriel’s neck, closing his eyes as he cleaned Gabriel of both their fluids. Gabriel sighed and leaned back against Sam, placing one hand over the one Sam had splayed over his stomach.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before,” whispered Sam into Gabriel’s neck. “Never met anyone so incredible. You’re fun and thoughtful and smart and I can’t believe you let me touch you like this. Can’t believe I get to hold you and kiss you and lie beside you in bed. You have no idea how grateful I am to have you in my life, Gabe.”

Gabriel moaned softly as Sam rubbed soap over his balls.

“You make such wonderful sounds for me.”

Sam teased Gabriel’s soft dick with slow strokes and gentle squeezes and Gabriel whimpered.

“I don’t deserve you,” Sam whispered as he pressed a doting kiss to Gabriel’s neck.

“Sam,” pleaded Gabriel as the younger man squeezed his sensitive dick again, harder this time as he jerked his wrist.

“But I’ll do everything I can to make you happy,” Sam breathed into Gabriel’s ear, watching the older man’s face twist through various emotions with every stroke and squeeze.

Gabriel finally managed to snag his hand and pull it away from him for a moment as he panted heavily. Sam smirked and nuzzled into his lover’s neck once more.

“I want every part of you,” Sam murmured. “I don’t want there being a single inch of you that I haven’t touched. You deserve to be worshipped and cherished and I want to be the one to do that.”

Gabriel turned in his arms and kissed him slowly and tenderly. The next few minutes were spent exploring each other leisurely, hands roaming over skin and fingers tracing muscles or mapping out one another’s favourite spots to be touched. Palms cupped cheeks and bodies were pressed together as they took their time in searching one another’s naked forms. Five minutes turned into ten, ten into fifteen and before either of them knew it, tongues were circling nipples, legs were wrapped around waists and erections were slipping together again, no help from hands this time as they were too busy squeezing asses and clutching wet hair or slippery skin.

Sam decided that his first lecture wasn’t that important.

Oddly, neither was his second.

 

* * * 

 

The moment Sam’s face lit up, smile bright and eyes sparkling as he picked up his pace to greet Gabriel after his last lecture, Gabriel knew he was wholly lost on the younger man.

Gabriel’s heart thumped wildly in his chest and he beamed as Sam’s arms snaked around him and lips captured his own in a warm, eager kiss. They hadn’t even been together that long and already, Gabriel knew he was ruined for all other relationships. 

He kissed back just as enthusiastically, hands sliding over Sam’s shoulders and tugging Sam a little lower as he bounced onto his tip-toes. He adored the height difference between them and when Sam chuckled into his mouth, Gabriel smiled back and threaded his fingers through his lover’s hair.

“I guess your brother finally got Novak into bed, hm?” Drawled a familiar voice.

Gabriel frowned and Sam tensed as they both turned to see Ruby, Azazel, Bela and Raphael observing them as though they were some sort of nauseating science experiment.

“Good luck with the rest of college,” continued Ruby, with a pointed glance at Gabriel and an ugly smirk.

Gabriel wrinkled his nose in confusion as Sam’s scowl deepened and he tightened his grip around the shorter man. He appeared just as confused as Gabriel was, but then his eyes widened a fraction and the older man was even more puzzled when Sam’s hand slowly slid away from his waist, falling limply to his side as a slither of something that looked a lot like guilt crossed his expression. It was gone before Gabriel could dissect it.

Gabriel’s expression darkened. No one was allowed to emotionally manipulate Sam, especially not these clowns.

He made a show of slotting his palm against Sam’s.

“I don’t know what type of glue you’ve been sniffing, but you and your crazy non-sequiturs can go and ruin someone else’s day. Now leave; you’re attracting all the flies.”

“You’re one to talk, you filthy maggot,” growled Raphael, fists clenched as Gabriel smirked sardonically.

Bela placed a delicately manicured hand on Raphael’s shoulder and he begrudgingly relaxed.

“Don’t waste your breath,” she hummed, eying Gabriel in distaste before her gaze turned positively devious. “Something tells me that Sam has been keeping dirty secrets.”

Gabriel felt Sam stiffen and he risked a glance at his lover to find the younger man looking angry and ashamed all at once. Gabriel felt his heart sink, but he didn’t let his mind linger on all of the possible meanings behind Bela’s statement. He wouldn’t let Sam’s douche-y former friends get to him like that.

“If you’re referring to the fact that Ruby steals drugs from the ward store cupboard, I can assure you, he’s told me all about it,” smiled Gabriel tightly and he felt a sense of satisfaction when Ruby’s eyes widened, suddenly panicking as she glanced around to make sure no one was listening in.

Bela’s gaze hardened. “Actually, I was referring to the fact that a little while ago, Sam and Dean- ”

“Shut up!” Hissed Sam and Gabriel startled at the venom in his tone. “You’ve ruined my life enough! I’ve followed you around like a lost puppy ever since we started college and I let you use me and manipulate me into believing that there was nothing wrong with hurting people and using them for your own gain. I know I wasn’t exactly innocent in it all, but at least I’m trying to fix myself! At least I’m trying to undo all the damage I did!” He squeezed Gabriel’s hand and glared at his former friends. “You aren’t taking the one good thing in my life away from me. I won’t let you.”

Bela’s glare was icy as she lifted her chin. “Once he finds out the truth, do you honestly think he’ll want to stay with you?”

She let those words sink in for a moment and Sam fell into a tense silence as Gabriel frowned once again, confused. Bela smirked.

“See you later, Sam,” she hummed airily as she strutted away, the rest of the group trailing after her with equally satisfied smirks.

Gabriel watched them leave before turning to Sam with an arched eyebrow. He wanted to pretend that their words hadn’t affected him, but he was curious and there was a sort of coldness sweeping through his veins at the implications Bela had made.

“So… you wouldn’t keep secrets from me, would you? Bela doesn’t know what she’s talking about, does she?” He asked quietly, unwilling to admit that he couldn’t stop wondering if Sam was… cheating on him or something. He felt awful for not trusting his lover, but Sam had stiffened at Bela’s words and Gabriel didn’t know what to make of that.

Sam flinched a little and Gabriel’s face fell.

“…Gabe… I…” Sam croaked, unable to meet Gabriel’s gaze and the older man straightened, expression hardening as hurt and betrayal seeped into his heart.

“If there’s someone else, just tell me,” said Gabriel blankly. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”

Sam’s eyes widened and his head snapped up to meet Gabriel’s cold gaze so fast that he nearly caught whiplash.

“What? There’s no one else. Why would I want anyone else?” Sam asked, looking affronted.

Gabriel frowned, once again completely lost. “…But… Why did…” He swallowed and started again. “There isn’t?” He asked, pathetically hopeful.

Sam’s eyes widened and he gently grasped Gabriel’s hands. “No. Of course not. Why would I need anyone else when I have you?”

Gabriel began to relax. “The way Bela was talking and the way you were reacting… I wondered if…”

Sam looked pained and he squeezed Gabriel’s hands a little desperately. “I would never cheat on you, Gabe. They were talking about… Around a month ago, I… Dean and I, we…”

Sam appeared to be struggling to get the words out, so Gabriel pressed a light kiss to his lips to silence him.

“I’m sorry for not trusting you,” Gabriel murmured sincerely and he tried to ignore how Sam grimaced at that too. “You don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to. I can wait until you’re ready, Sam.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest but Gabriel merely smiled at him, soft and reassuring and Sam seemed to sag in resignation.

“How about we pay a visit to that animal shelter, yeah?” Hummed Gabriel, squeezing Sam’s hand comfortingly.

Sam’s smile seemed a little sad and forced, but he nodded and wouldn’t let go of Gabriel’s hand as they made their way off campus.

 

* * *

 

Dean was happy to note that things weren’t awkward between him and Castiel after their little incident that morning. He’d been scolding himself all day for insinuating that Castiel had slept with him and the guilt at making Cas uncomfortable had been slowly eating away at him since he’d left the other man’s house. However, it seemed he’d had no reason to worry because Castiel spoke to him normally at lunch and there didn’t appear to be a scrap of tension between them.

Unfortunately, something must have happened between lunch and the end of the day, because when Dean next spotted Castiel, he was leaving the administration building, where the University President’s office was contained, and his scowl was like thunder. Deciding to risk it, Dean trotted over to his friend in order to check up on him.

“Everything alright, man?” Asked Dean, concernedly as he sidled up to Cas. He noted the other man’s clenched fists and the fiery flash of his eyes and instinctively braced himself in case Cas channelled his inner John Winchester and thought it a good idea to take a swing at Dean’s head.

Lips a tight line, Castiel shook his head once and remained silent, storming towards the direction of his car.

“…If there’s anything I can do…” Dean trailed off awkwardly, not knowing how to finish that sentence. He’d never been good with emotional situations.

Castiel said nothing for the next few minutes as they reached his car. Dean startled when Castiel yanked on the door so hard it looked in danger of falling off its hinges.

“Cas,” protested Dean when he realised the other man wasn’t about to tell him anything and drive off in a state of white-hot fury. “Buddy, talk to me.”

“Leave me alone, Dean,” snarled Castiel and Dean jumped at the hostility in his tone. He’d never seen Cas like this before and he definitely didn’t like it.

Castiel slammed the door and the sharp bang echoed off the tarmac and the other cars for a moment, startling a few scavenging pigeons into flight. Cas’ knuckles were white on the wheel as Dean watched him stab the key blindly in the vicinity of the ignition without much success.

Dean frowned and opened the door, ignoring Castiel’s vicious scowl. He snatched the keys from Cas’ fist and took a step backwards when the other man swiped at them.

“You’re not driving home like this,” Dean stated firmly. “Get out of the car.”

“Give me my keys back, Dean,” snapped Castiel.

“No. Get out of the car. I’m taking you home.”

“Dean, I swear. If you don’t return my keys, I’ll punch your mouth so hard you’ll be spitting out teeth,” hissed Castiel.

Dean snorted and took another step backwards. “Okay, that confirms it. You’re not in any fit state to drive. Get out of the car and I’ll drive you back to your house and you can plot ways to break my face on the way. Heck, maybe you’ll even tell me what’s got you wanting to break my teeth.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean for a moment before smoothly sliding out of the car and holding his hand out expectantly. Dean warily dropped his car keys into his hand and Castiel slammed the door and locked the car in silence. Satisfied, Dean walked them over to the Impala, noting that Cas wasn’t as rough with Baby as he had been with his own car. Dean bit back a small smile; despite his fury, Castiel remembered how much Dean treasured his car.

Wordlessly, Dean fired up the engine and rolled onto the road, risking subtle glances at Castiel every so often. He watched the other man slowly sag further and further into his seat as their journey progressed and Dean’s lips tugged downwards as Cas’ expression grew wearier. 

“My father called,” Castiel whispered after a few moments.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “I saw you leaving the administration building. What did he want?”

Castiel shook his head. “Not Zachariah. My real father.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he stared at Cas before flicking his gaze to the road again and tightening his grip on the wheel.

“I thought you weren’t in contact?”

“We’re not,” Castiel spat. “But suddenly, he wants to be. Wants to be a part of my life.”

Dean squared his jaw. He’d heard all about Castiel’s biological father. The man had left Castiel and his mother in the hospital, so Castiel had never even met him. Apparently, the guy didn’t like responsibility and since a newborn baby came with a lot of that, he’d upped sticks and gone off the map, never once contacting Castiel’s mother. She had returned home to find the house half-empty along with their shared bank account.

“Funny he suddenly wants to be a part of my life now that my mother’s dead and there’s a bit of money in the bank,” growled Castiel.

Dean frowned. “I hope you told him where to shove it.”

“Actually, Zachariah did,” rumbled Cas angrily. “Without me present. My father called the University and when reception recognised the name, they transferred the call to my step-father, who apparently thought it perfectly acceptable to warn my actual father never to call me or the University again. I’ve been told there was a lot of yelling involved.”

Dean’s brows furrowed at the tone. “…Wait… is that not what you wanted? Did you want to speak to your dad?”

“Of course not,” scoffed Castiel.

“…Then why are you mad at Zachariah?”

“Because that wasn’t his decision to make!” Snarled Castiel. “Cain is my father! Zachariah has no say in my interactions with him! He has no right to interfere with my family! He’s not even my blood!”

Dean was confused. “So, who are you mad at? Zachariah or Cain? I thought you didn’t want anything to do with your biological dad?”

“I don’t!” Growled Castiel. “And I’m furious with them both! My father abandoned me and Zachariah has been controlling me since he weaselled his way into marrying my mother. He hated that I wanted to become a journalist and he’s forced me to enrol in a college course that I don’t want to take. He doesn’t get to tell me who I’m allowed to talk to and I said as much to him earlier.”

Dean was quiet as he listened to Castiel’s heavy, angry breaths.

“I get that forcing you to take a course you don’t like isn’t going to win him any ‘Father of the Year’ awards, but… I’m not really understanding why you’re mad at him for this. Sounds to me like he was just looking out for you. He’s even called you down to his office to inform you that your dad called. He could’ve kept it a secret, yet he didn’t,” Dean said softly. “Kinda sounds like he was trying to protect you.”

Castiel glared at the dashboard. “I don’t need protecting. I need Zachariah to start treating me like an adult for once. I’m not some kid he can control. I can do what I want.”

Dean risked a brief glance at the other man. “Cas… I think maybe you should take a step back and clear your head. You sound like you’re not thinking straight.”

“I’m thinking fine,” snapped Castiel, rounding on Dean. “Why’s it so hard for you to understand that I don’t want other people interfering with my business?”

Dean frowned. “No, I get that and I know you don’t have the best of relationships with your step-dad, but… c’mon. Cut the guy some slack. He was just trying to help.”

“He will never be my father!” Snarled Castiel. “He doesn’t get a say in my life, in the same way that that deadbeat assbutt, Cain doesn’t! I wish Mom had never met either of them!”

It suddenly clicked for Dean.

“You miss your mom,” he stated softly.

Castiel tensed for a moment before turning towards the window, away from Dean. Dean subtly took the wrong turning for Castiel’s house.

“Why does Cain think I’ll just walk into his arms like the last twenty-six years didn’t happen? Like he didn’t abandon my mom when she needed him most? Like he was actually there for me when I needed a father growing up? He didn’t even care when another man married mom. Didn’t care about his family, so why should I care about him?”

Dean took a familiar back road.

Castiel sighed in resignation. “Zachariah isn’t even that bad of a father. He dealt with my teenage years without kicking me out of the house and he was actually pretty good to my mom. I don’t know why I’m always so hard on him. Things could’ve been a lot worse.”

Cas leaned his head back against the seat with a weary glance at the window. “I suppose Cain’s call reminded me of Mom. She didn’t deserve to die the way she did. All that twisted metal and burned tarmac. In the middle of a highway. Alone.” Castiel dropped his gaze to his lap and Dean’s heart ached when the man practically folded in on himself as the horrific memories swept through his mind.

“I miss her,” whispered Castiel brokenly.

Dean turned onto a slip road he knew well and gingerly reached out to squeeze Cas’ shoulder.

Cas’ lips twitched upwards weakly.

“What was she like?” Asked Dean softly.

Castiel cast his gaze to Dean, staring at him in a way that Dean couldn’t really describe, before a small, fond smile pulled at his lips. Dean couldn’t tell if the expression was due to the memories or him. Either way, he felt himself relaxing now that Cas wasn’t as upset.

“Mom was… she was stern and strong-willed and she was sometimes far too blunt, but she had a soft spot for her family and she was curious about everything and anything. She was always learning and exploring and she taught me so much when I was a child. Sometimes it was tough love and although I didn’t always appreciate it at the time, I understand now why she did the things she did. She didn’t fuss over me and coddle me when I fell over and scraped a knee; she slapped a band aid on and told me to stop crying because it wouldn’t solve anything. Where other parents gave in to their child’s tantrums and bought them whatever they wanted, my mom told me brats didn’t deserve rewards and left me to scream until my voice was hoarse, whilst she continued shopping. Obviously, I stopped throwing tantrums pretty quickly.”

Castiel’s glassy gaze turned a little brighter as his smile widened and Dean found himself grinning alongside him. At least he knew where Cas got his manners from now.

“Some people were intimidated by her,” hummed Castiel. “She was tall with long brown hair and her favourite colour was black. Everything she owned was black, from her dresses, to her shoes, to her eye shadow. It probably didn’t help that she was a judge. I suppose she probably looked pretty terrifying in all-black as she glided into the courtroom.”

Dean thought about how Cas slipped into a room when he was on a mission; trench coat billowing behind him and gaze cool as he stood tall, chin tilted defiantly until he solved whatever problem he had. Dean smiled.

“She always spoke softly to me,” continued Castiel. “Barely ever raised her voice but her words were always calculated and precise. She never wasted words. Said exactly what she meant.”

Castiel dropped his gaze to his lap again. “She used to tell me how proud of me she was. It was the best feeling in the world because she didn’t say it all the time, but she meant it when she did. I never had to ask if she loved me because it was obvious. And she knew I loved her too, even if I didn’t always say it.”

Castiel’s smile fell. “I wish I’d said it more.”

Dean’s heart ached for the other man and a solemn silence fell between them for a few minutes before Castiel frowned.

“Dean, this isn’t the way to my house.”

Dean glanced over at his friend. “Yeah, thought you could use a bit of R and R. And maybe some company.”

Castiel looked confused. “You’re quite welcome in my house, Dean. You know that.”

“Of course, but your house doesn’t have a hot tub,” smirked Dean.

Castiel blinked. “I haven’t got any trunks.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, you can either dip naked or borrow a pair of mine. I won’t complain either way,” he winked.

Castiel blinked again before facing forwards. “…That sounds… really appealing, actually. Thank you.”

“So, you’re gonna go commando?” Teased Dean.

Castiel rolled his eyes but there was a smirk on his lips. “I meant the idea of relaxing in a hot tub sounds appealing. Mind out of the gutter, Dean.” 

Dean laughed quietly and was secretly pleased to note that Cas looked happier now. He decidedly didn’t like his friend looking distraught and angry and lost all at once. In fact, he didn’t like Cas looking like any of those, period.

They arrived at Dean’s suite not too long after and Dean pretended not to notice how close Castiel was standing to him when they stepped into the elevator. Although he did have to convince himself that lacing his fingers with Cas’ would be inappropriate.

He let them both into the suite and jogged upstairs to find them both some swimming trunks and he most definitely didn’t consider giving Cas the tight, black Speedo Sam had bought him as a joke. He hadn’t invited Cas back to his place to ogle him. 

He grabbed a couple of trunks and tossed the blue ones over the balcony to Cas before disappearing into his bedroom to change into his red ones. He tried not to think about Castiel stripping in his living room, unbuttoning his jeans and slowly sliding his underwear down as he watched Dean with a smirk, Dean’s eyes glued to Cas’ –

No. Not going there.

Shaking his head, Dean emerged from the bedroom and trotted downstairs, smiling at how Cas was innocently waiting for him, clothes neatly folded on the arm of the sofa. It was like the beginning of a bad porno.

Dean snorted to himself at the thought.

“Drink?” He asked as he began tugging the cover off the hot tub. It was heavier than it looked, but it kept the heat in and the dust out, so Dean didn’t complain. It also had handy hooks to drape big, fluffy towels over. He set the jets on their lightest setting for the corner seats. It was an eight-person tub, meaning Cas wouldn’t have to use the jets if he didn’t want to.

“Whatever you’re having,” hummed Castiel, so Dean gestured to the tub before wandering into the kitchen. When he returned with two beers, Cas was slumped in one of the corner seats, eyes half-lidded as steam swirled around him. He sighed happily as the jets massaged his tense muscles and when he spotted Dean, his smile was light and carefree, as though all his problems had dissolved the second he slid into the water.

Dean swallowed and tried not to drop the beers. Cas’ chest was glistening with water and Dean now had full view to all those strong muscles in his arms and shoulders. He was firm and well-defined and Dean suddenly realised this was going to be a lot harder than he thought. His thoughts wandered back to the evening at the park, where he’d touched Cas’ soft skin and rubbed between his legs and he sagged a little because he’d done that when Cas was fully-clothed; now the guy was half naked and he didn’t know how he was going to convince himself not to touch.

He took a steadying breath and clutched the bottles tighter as he made his way over. He couldn’t do this to Cas. He couldn’t treat him like something to be lusted after, because Cas’ friendship meant too much to him. Cas had already stated multiple times that he wasn’t interested in Dean and Dean honestly couldn’t blame him. He was a horrible person and he’d slept with far too many people and broken so many hearts and he wasn’t about to ruin what he had with Cas just because he couldn’t keep his thoughts from turning X-rated.

He somehow managed to convince himself of all of this as he stepped into the tub and handed a beer to Castiel, who looked up at him with beautiful sapphire eyes and an appreciative smile, elegant fingers closing around the bottle before he raised the rim to lightly chapped, pink lips and took a long swig, tongue flicking out to catch a stray droplet on his bottom lip once he was finished.  
It just wasn’t fair how gorgeous Cas was.

Dean snapped out of his reverie and shot a wide grin at Cas. “So, what do you think?” He asked.

Castiel’s gaze raked over his body, lingering on his chest for a moment before slowly tracking to his eyes again. 

“Very attractive.”

Dean blinked in confusion. “…I meant the tub.”

Castiel stared at him for a moment, eyes widening slightly. “Oh. Um… relaxing. Just what I needed. Thank you.”

They stared at one another awkwardly for a moment before Cas dropped his gaze in embarrassment and Dean tried to convince himself that jumping Cas in the tub was a bad idea. He moved towards the control panel and switched the centre bubbles on to distract himself.

Castiel startled at the sound, but quickly relaxed at the sight of huge bubbles racing to the surface of the water in droves. He placed his palm over them and smiled at the sensation of them barrelling into his hand.

“What was your mom’s name?” Asked Dean idly as he settled back into his favourite corner seat. The one with the full back massager.

“Amara,” hummed Cas.

Dean grinned lop-sidedly. “Does all your family have exotic names?”

Castiel smiled. “I suppose. I have a cousin called Samandriel and a distant uncle called Inias. My family seems to embrace weird names.”

Dean tilted his head. “I like ‘Castiel’. Seems strangely… traditional.”

“That’s probably because it was taken from the Angel name _Cassiel_. Apparently, he was _‘Ruler of Saturn’_. My mom didn’t want to make it too obvious that she’d been reading Jewish texts instead of the baby name book and changed one of the letters, so I was named ‘Castiel’,” snorted Cas. “Like I said, my mom loved learning, even when she was in labour.”

Dean huffed out a laugh and Castiel leaned backwards into the jets once more.

“At least now I know where you get it from,” teased Dean.

Castiel pouted in mock-hurt. “I would never name a child after an Angel.”

“How about a Demon?”

“Dean!”

Dean laughed. “What? I hung out with people called ‘Lilith’ and ‘Abaddon’. It’s not that far a stretch!”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Both of whom turned out to be absolutely wonderful people,” he drawled drily. “No, I’m not naming my child after a demon. It’s like setting someone up to fail.”

“What about ‘Lucifer’?”

“Really?”

“One of Gabe’s brothers is called Lucifer. And technically he’s not a demon. He’s a fallen Angel.”

“Gabriel hates his brothers,” Castiel deadpanned. “And I wouldn’t name a child ‘Lucifer’. It’s like calling someone ‘Satan’.”

“What about something plain and boring then? Set you apart from the rest of your family. Something like ‘Jack’.”

Castiel snorted. “Next, you’ll ask me to name my child after you.”

“I’m flattered,” smirked Dean. “Dean or Deanna Novak? Has a nice ring to it.”

“Fine. Cassie or Castiel Winchester sounds pretty good too,” said Cas and for a moment, Dean forgot what they were discussing and had to reboot his brain. _Castiel Winchester_ did flow off the tongue really easily.

“I’m not naming my kid after you,” huffed Dean. 

“But you want children?” Asked Castiel curiously.

Dean paused for a moment. “Well… not yet, obviously. But… maybe in the future? I kinda like the idea of being a dad.” He watched his hand move under the water. “Just hope I won’t be as bad at it as my own old man.”

Castiel’s gaze softened. “Something tells me you’ll be a good father.”

“Hopefully, I’ll be a good husband too,” sighed Dean, memories of his parents’ divorce replaying in his mind. That had been a traumatic experience for four-year-old him.

“I don’t think there’s any doubt of that either,” murmured Cas.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, but it wasn’t uncomfortable and Dean only realised he’d been staring at Castiel and his body when he noticed Cas was staring at him in exactly the same way.

Dean averted his gaze first. “So… about last night… um… thanks for taking care of me. I don’t really remember much except waking up on your couch this morning and standing up with a blinding headache, but still… thanks. And sorry if I was a little clingy. I genuinely don’t remember forcing you to sleep downstairs with me.”

Castiel chuckled softly. “I promise I didn’t mind you clinging to me.” His gaze turned concerned. “How’s your head now? Does it still hurt?”

“It’s been aching a little all day but I think the steam is doing it good,” replied Dean. “Once again, thanks for the cool cloth.”

“No problem,” Castiel mumbled, a small frown creasing his brows.

This time, the silence was awkward and fraught with some sort of tension Dean couldn’t quite identify. His mind wandered back to the park and what he and Castiel had been doing before he’d been concussed by a bottle. He risked a glance to Castiel’s stomach, submerged below the water but bare and inviting nonetheless. He remembered how warm that soft skin had been as his fingers had explored every surface.

He could feel Castiel watching him, waiting for… something. Dean just wasn’t sure what.

He watched Castiel shift slightly, legs falling apart a little wider in his seat and Dean risked a glance to the man’s crotch, concealed in Dean’s blue trunks. The thought of Castiel wearing his clothes made Dean swallow.

Feeling guilty for once again ogling his friend, Dean returned his gaze to his own hands, missing Castiel’s frown.

He blinked when Castiel’s knee gently pressed into his. Granted, the hot tub wasn’t huge and they were sitting on the same side rather than diagonally opposite one another, but there was more than enough room for them to sit comfortably and not brush one another. Maybe Castiel didn’t know they were touching. After all, the bubbles were pretty high pressure and it could sometimes feel like you were touching someone. Maybe Cas thought Dean’s knee was a stream of bubbles. At that thought, he carefully moved his leg away from Cas’ and once again, missed his friend’s light scowl.

“How’s college going anyway?” Asked Dean in an effort to break the silence.

Castiel seemed startled by the question. “…It’s fine. As fine as it can go for a course I don’t like. How about you?”

Dean flicked a bubble. “Content’s interesting and I love practical days. The other students though…” He scowled at the torrent of bubbles in the centre of the tub. “I suppose it’s my own fault. I built up a stupid reputation and now they won’t stop asking me to sleep with them. The inappropriate touching is getting out of hand. I can’t get through a single practical session without someone groping me. Even in lectures, people sit beside me and whisper filthy things into my ear. It’s irritating because I can’t hear the lecturer when they do that.”

Castiel straightened. “They grope you?”

“Every practical,” huffed Dean.

“Have you informed anyone? Your professors? The University? Student Guild?”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at the tone. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Cas was being protective of him.

“I did tell one lecturer about a cheerleader who groped my crotch in the middle of practice, but after he chuckled and said _‘Sounds like you’re in for another good night’_ , I thought it better not to mention anything,” Dean grumbled. “Even the lecturers know my reputation.” He sighed. “Guess it’s my own fault.”

“Still, they shouldn’t touch you when you’ve expressed it’s not welcome,” scowled Castiel. “What do they say when you tell them that you don’t want to sleep with them?”

Dean shrugged embarrassedly. He should be able to defend himself against a few horny women and yet, he couldn’t get them to stop touching him. His former friends would have been laughing right now. He wasn’t sure how to deal with Cas’ patience and caring attitude.

“The women usually get mad and tell me I’ve got a small dick or something like that. Sometimes they slap me or demand to know why a whore like me won’t sleep with them. The guys usually shove me or push me against a wall or something and try to get into my pants since I’m obviously ‘playing hard to get’. Often, they just keep groping me until practice ends. Sometimes they call me a ‘tease’ and say I’m not worth all the STDs they’ll catch.”

Dean’s mouth turned downwards. “I’m clean, by the way. I’ve been checked and I’ve never done anything without protection. Just in case you’re frightened of catching anything from my trunks.”

When Cas didn’t respond, Dean glanced up at him curiously, to find him scowling furiously.

“They have no right to treat you like that,” growled Castiel. “And that lecturer is an idiot and should retrain. What makes him think sexual harassment is okay?”

“Well, she was a cheerleader.”

“So what?” Huffed Castiel. “Why is it suddenly okay for a woman to touch a man when he’s not asked for it? Why is sexual harassment towards the male laughed at and dismissed? No one should treat you like that, Dean. It doesn’t matter what your reputation was; ‘no’ means ‘no’.”

Dean wasn’t accustomed to people caring about his feelings like this. He didn’t know how to react to someone telling him that it was okay to feel uncomfortable with a woman harassing him. 

“If this continues, I’ll take you to Zachariah tomorrow and he’ll stop this. He won’t laugh at you and he certainly won’t think you’re ‘in for a good night’. As much as I complain about my step-father, he takes rules seriously and he won’t stand for harassment,” Cas growled. He looked furious at the other students’ treatment of Dean and Dean honestly didn’t know how to react. He’d never had anyone act protective of him before.

“…Thanks, Cas,” he whispered, feeling like he was being heard for once.

Cas’ gaze softened and Dean conjured up an image of lightly pressing his lips to his friend’s, just savouring the taste as he tried to demonstrate how much he appreciated Cas’ concern. He quickly shook those thoughts from his head.

After a couple of minutes of watching the steam billow around them, Castiel glanced at Dean. “Just how much of last night do you remember?” He asked tentatively.

“Um… the band, the pie, the beer… and a bottle crashing into the back of my skull.” Dean decided to leave out the bit about feeling Cas up. It wasn’t appropriate anyway.

Castiel tilted his head with an odd look. “That’s it?”

“I vaguely remember you dragging me to your car… why?”

Castiel seemed to… slump a little before returning his focus to his beer. “It doesn’t matter.”

Dean stared at his friend for a moment and wondered what he’d wanted him to remember. Had something happened during the car ride?

He decided not to push. “What lectures do you have tomorrow?” He asked instead.

 

* * *

 

They were still in the hot tub at 11:40 pm. They’d jumped out at 8 pm for food and they’d sat on the couch together, bundled in towels as they ate the rest of the pasta bake Gabriel had made the previous night. They had complained about how pruny they looked and grimaced when the first bite of pasta tasted like chlorine, but quickly ignored all that in favour of settling their rumbling stomachs and groaning when Sam and Gabriel stumbled through the door, lips attached, hands roaming and bodies pressed together. 

“Not in the living room!” Dean had shouted, to which he had received a middle finger from Sam and an eye roll from Gabriel. They had barely managed to separate themselves as they chased one another upstairs.

Castiel had laughed and Dean had groaned and then, Cas had raced back to the tub, ignoring Dean’s protests. Dean hadn’t needed much convincing to jump back in and he flipped the tub’s LEDs on, smirking at how Cas’ eyes sparkled when they faded through multiple colours. 

“Wanna stay the night?” Chuckled Dean when he noticed the time. Castiel looked particularly content in what had become his favourite seat and Dean internally congratulated himself for making Castiel feel better after how upset he’d been earlier.

Cas nodded. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Wanna borrow some PJs?” He winked and Cas rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not giving you any more washing. I’ll be fine, thank you.”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t mind. I kinda like you in my clothes.” He realised what he’d said a fraction too late and he coughed awkwardly when he noticed Cas staring at him.

“Your clothes are very comfortable,” Cas said eventually.

“…Good.”

“I’d be more comfortable if they were on the floor.”

Dean paused as his brain made sense of that sentence and a startled laugh ripped from his throat. He missed the flash of confusion that graced Castiel’s face.

“That was terrible!” Dean laughed. “Worse than my pick-up lines! Where’d you find that one?”

“TV show,” grumbled Cas, looking a little ruffled.

Dean grinned. “I’m finally rubbing off on you.”

“I wish,” Cas muttered and Dean hesitated. Wait, was Cas actually not joking?

“…Dude, how drunk are you right now?”

Cas looked offended. “I’ve had two beers.”

“Oh,” frowned Dean. 

Castiel sighed. “Anyway, thank you for allowing me to stay. I realise I’ve probably not been the best company today. And I’m sorry for threatening to break your teeth.”

Dean shrugged. “No harm done. Besides, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had – flaws and all,” he winked. “I love your company.”

Castiel stared at Dean for a long few seconds.

“Screw this,” he growled.

Dean gasped when Cas suddenly appeared between his legs and crushed their mouths together. Fingers tangled in his hair and one arm snaked around his back and Dean was too stunned to do anything.

After a moment, Castiel noticed Dean’s unresponsiveness and he began to pull away, looking horrified that he’d misread the mounting tension between them, but that was when Dean’s brain finally kicked back online. He grabbed Castiel’s arms and yanked him closer, smashing their lips together once more as one of his hands smoothed over Cas’ thigh, the other sneaking around his back to stop him from leaving.

Cas sagged into him, kissing back eagerly as his hands returned to their previous positions. A couple of minutes later, Dean realised Castiel was crouching in a very awkward position and, aided by the density of the water and pressure of the bubbles, Dean tugged Castiel onto his lap, making the shorter man inhale sharply. Dean took the opportunity to slide his tongue into Cas’ mouth and Cas pressed closer, tightening his grip on Dean’s hair when the taller man caressed his thigh slowly.

When they finally pulled apart to breathe, wide, green eyes stared into clouded blue.

“Cas?” Whispered Dean reverently.

“I want this,” Castiel assured, equally as soft as he untangled a hand from Dean’s hair and cupped his cheek with it instead. 

Dean licked his lips. “I don’t think I can have a one-night stand with you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” murmured Cas as he leaned down for a sweet kiss. Dean closed his eyes as Cas’ lips touched his. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

“You sure you want a relationship with me?” Dean mumbled. “After everything I’ve done? After every _one_ I’ve done?”

A hand closed possessively around his bicep and Dean shivered at Cas’ low growl.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Cas whispered into his mouth.

Dean nipped Cas’ bottom lip. “Then shut me up.”

Castiel smirked against his mouth before claiming it roughly and Dean realised that Cas was going to be a feisty bottom. Just how he liked them.

Dean pulled Castiel further into his lap and Cas leaned into him, bodies flush as they licked inside one another’s mouths. Cas’ hands roamed over Dean’s chest, mapping out every dip and rise and committing them to his memory for later as Dean’s hands smoothed over the shorter man’s back, marvelling over the warmth of his wet skin and how slick it felt beneath his fingertips.

Cas hummed contentedly when Dean pulled away to mouth kisses over his neck and he tilted his head to allow more access. Dean smirked when Cas’ wandering hands traced over his stomach and waist, and he nuzzled his lover’s jaw before sucking hotly at his throat. He soon shifted to Cas’ shoulder and scraped his teeth lightly over the soft flesh, before nipping at the area and sucking at it until he left a small purpling bruise. 

Castiel’s breathing had turned heavy a few minutes ago and Dean smirked at the idea of calm, unflappable Castiel enjoying a little roughness. He was delighted when Cas nosed into his neck and leaned his head against his shoulder, closing his eyes as he relaxed and practically invited Dean to mark him with another hickey. Dean pressed a sweet kiss to the juncture between Cas’ neck and shoulder before sucking at it gently and scraping his teeth over the tender area once he was done. Cas shuddered against him and nuzzled into his neck in encouragement as his fingers wrapped around Dean’s hips. Splaying his hands protectively over his lover’s back, Dean found a new spot on his neck to mark and Cas sighed happily and slowly trailed his hands up and down Dean’s sides. It seemed Cas had a bit of a kink.

After a few minutes, Dean surveyed his handiwork and tilted Cas’ chin up in order to press their lips together. He’d expected Cas to taste like the coffee he drank so much of, so the hint of sweetness was surprising, yet incredibly pleasant. Dean supposed it complimented his clean, grassy smell.

He smiled to himself. He was turning into a poet.

Cas cupped his cheek and their kiss was so gentle and adoring that Dean wasn’t sure if Cas liked it rough or tender. Either way, he liked kissing Cas. He wrapped his arms more securely around his lover and smiled against Castiel’s mouth when the other man copied his movements, holding onto Dean as though he’d bolt if he didn’t.

Which was the furthest thing from Dean’s mind right now because the sensation of Cas’ skin sliding against his as they clung to one another was in his list of favourite things he wanted to keep experiencing until he died.

Cas shifted and suddenly began peppering kisses over Dean’s neck and Dean chuckled because he had a feeling he knew where this was going. As expected, Cas began sucking at his neck, nipping and kissing the same area until a bruise began to form. Yeah, Cas definitely had a thing for hickeys. Although, Dean found he liked the idea of belonging to Cas. He liked the idea of sauntering around college and everyone spotting both his and Cas’ marks and putting two and two together. 

Dean closed his eyes as Cas worked on his neck. He nuzzled into his friend’s shoulder and pressed his mouth to it gently.

The hot tub jets whirred quietly around them, the water lapping at their skin and after a little while, Dean could feel the tiny bumps of raised flesh on Cas’ cooling back, where the water couldn’t reach. He splayed his palm over the area, attempting to warm it, and Castiel quickly sunk into him, nips becoming tender kisses. Hands roamed over Dean’s front, exploring his chest and stomach and teasing nipples with light pinches. Dean huffed in amusement and let his spare hand resume stroking Castiel’s thigh. He could get used to this playful side of Cas.

“Do you really not remember anything else from last night?” Asked Cas, breath hot against Dean’s neck.

Dean twisted his neck so their lips could brush. “I remember a few details.”

Castiel’s lips tugged upwards into a smirk before they captured Dean’s. “Such as?”

Dean slowly shifted his palm from Cas’ thigh to his crotch, rubbing the area sensually and marvelling at the heat seeping into his skin. Castiel was already beginning to harden and Dean could feel his own response the longer he touched his friend.

Cas hummed quietly in approval and began rolling his hips, pushing himself into Dean’s eager palm.

Dean was pretty certain they were moving too fast, but he was enjoying himself too much to care, so he let it continue and began squeezing Cas carefully, feeling his friend harden further beneath his thin swimming trunks.

After a few minutes, Cas pulled Dean’s hand away and slid further up his lap until their crotches were pressed together. He tangled his fingers with Dean’s without seeming to notice as he rutted against him, the water easing the friction between their clothes and allowing them to slide together without much effort. Castiel laced his free hand into Dean’s hair, tugging his head nearer as he claimed Dean’s mouth. Tongues caressed one another as they held each other closer and Dean focused on the pressure of Cas’ erection against his own; the heat of it and its firmness. He slid his hand out of Cas’ grip and hooked his fingers around the back of his friend’s knee, pulling until Cas was practically kneeling on his seat, thighs framing Dean’s hips as they moved together.

Castiel smiled against Dean’s mouth in gratitude and Dean splayed his fingers over Cas’ ass, squeezing in encouragement whenever Castiel rolled his hips in the perfect way. Cas’ fingers crept between them and rode into Dean’s waistband and the taller man inhaled sharply at the feeling of Cas’ fingertips ghosting over his erection. His touch was slow and light and Dean kissed Castiel harder in impatience. He wanted more and he wanted it now.

Castiel was wearing that insufferable, smug smirk again, touches never increasing their pressure as he ran a finger up the length of Dean’s dick. Determined to wipe the smirk from Cas’ face, Dean let his hand sneak into the back of Cas’ trunks. Castiel gasped and this time, it was Dean’s turn to smirk as his finger circled Cas’ hole. The water eased any discomfort Castiel might have experienced as Dean teased at his entrance and after a moment of hesitation, Cas wrapped his fist around Dean’s length and jerked his wrist gently.

Dean groaned softly into his mouth and slipped a finger inside Cas, free arm wrapping more securely around his friend. Cas shuddered against him and rocked back onto his finger, still carefully stroking Dean.

After a couple of minutes, Dean slipped another finger inside Cas and his friend moaned into his mouth, squeezing his length harder.

Cas’ stubble against his skin was a stark contrast to the fluid slide of the rest of their wet bodies. Dean wanted nothing more than for them both to lose the trunks and see if the water eased the slide of more sensitive parts, but Cas was moaning softly as Dean’s fingers worked inside him and it was probably the most beautiful sound Dean had ever heard. Cas began pumping him in earnest and Dean groaned low and filthy, thrusting up into his fist. When he felt pressure building inside him, he grasped Cas’ wrist to still him and kissed him heatedly on the lips.

Frowning in confusion, Castiel pulled back to look at Dean.

“As much as I love the idea of defiling you in the tub, this is a communal space and I really don’t want to drain the water and change the filters,” whispered Dean, an amused smile touching his mouth. “How about we take this to the bedroom?”

Castiel’s eyes brightened at the realisation that Dean wasn’t stopping them entirely. He kissed Dean roughly and slowly pulled away from him, unable to help himself from stroking his friend’s leg as he stood.

Dean admired the impressive tent to Cas’ trunks for a moment before following him out of the tub. They grabbed their towels and Castiel yelped when Dean tugged him to his chest and began drying him off. Dean shot him a wink and a grin and a smile pulled at the corners of Castiel’s mouth as he returned the favour and began drying Dean off. Dean stole a few kisses and Castiel laughed when his friend began drying lower and lower, peppering kisses over his chest and stomach and finally, a cheeky one on the bulge of his trunks.

“You look good down there,” teased Cas and Dean cocked an eyebrow before mouthing at the outline of Cas’ erection through his trunks. Castiel’s breath hitched as he watched and suddenly, Dean was standing upright again and claiming Cas’ mouth hotly, arms snaking around his bare middle.

“Bedroom?” Dean murmured when they broke apart and when Cas nodded enthusiastically, Dean quickly covered the tub back over and grabbed Cas’ hand and led him upstairs.

They barely made it into Dean’s room before they were attached to one another again, lips pressed together and hands sliding over hot skin. Dean shifted to mouth at the hickeys over Cas’ neck and shoulder and Cas tightened his grip on Dean’s waist and back, pulling their bodies flush.

Dean slowly pushed Cas towards the bed, but before they could fall onto it, Cas put a hand on his chest.

“My trunks are still wet,” he warned.

Dean smirked. “Then take them off.”

Cas blinked. Then his hands flew to his trunks as he hastily yanked them off. Dean chuckled at his eagerness and pulled away from his friend, making Cas frown again. He let his gaze roam over Cas’ exposed body, slow and leisurely as he took in every inch of Castiel. Cas stood a little straighter once he realised that he was being assessed and Dean realised he was nervous. He wanted Dean to like his body.

Dean smiled warmly. “Cas… you have no idea how much I want to touch you. I want to touch every part of you, taste every inch of your skin, kiss every rise and dip of your body. You look amazing.”

Cas’ eyes were wide and round in the dimly-lit room.

“Then do it,” he breathed.

Dean chuckled quietly and slowly rolled his trunks down, never taking his gaze off Cas as he did so. Cas watched him hungrily, eyes roaming over Dean’s body once he was naked.

“Like what you see?” Asked Dean. For some reason, Cas’ response was more important to him than any other time he’d asked that question of his previous partners.

“Very much so,” growled Cas.

Dean relaxed, even though he hadn’t realised he’d been apprehensive in the first place. He stepped forwards again and gently pushed Castiel onto the bed. Dean followed him and they wriggled until they were comfortable. When Dean noticed they were both still a little damp from their trunks, he threw the bed covers over them and settled on top of Cas, straddling him just enough that they weren’t actually touching. He watched Castiel sink into the mattress contentedly as he began to warm up again. He raised a hand to stroke Cas’ cheek as he admired the handsome face below him. Cas had such stunning eyes.

He smiled when Cas stole a sweet kiss.

“Are you just going to stare at me for the rest of the night?” Hummed Cas.

Dean chuckled. “I could. You’re gorgeous enough that I wouldn’t get bored.”

Cas snorted, but his cheeks had coloured a bit. “Never took you for a soppy romantic.”

Dean nuzzled into his neck. “You love it, don’t lie.”

Castiel said nothing but he did wind his arms around Dean’s back. Dean placed a final kiss to his friend’s neck before wrapping a hand around Castiel’s dick suddenly. Cas gasped and Dean grinned as he jerked the other man quickly.

“What happened to slow touching and kissing?” Groaned Castiel, so Dean kissed his lips chastely.

“Guess I’m a little overeager,” he winked. Cas’ dick was cool in his palm and Dean decided to warm them both up a little.

He lined their erections together and curled his fist around them both, sighing happily at the friction of Cas’ length against his as he pumped them together. The dampness from their trunks eased their motion and Cas yanked his head down for another long, filthy kiss. Cas clutched Dean’s hair and palmed his bare ass as they rocked their hips together. When their breaths became soft pants and Cas hooked his legs around Dean’s waist, Dean curled his hand around Cas’ bicep, holding him close as he mouthed at his friend’s neck over a particularly large hickey. Cas whined softly, baring his throat and Dean latched on quickly, sucking another mark into flawless skin.

“You like it rough?” Teased Dean, but the effect was ruined by his heavy breathing as they rutted against one another.

Cas merely tilted his head further backwards. Dean smirked and scraped his teeth over the forming bruise, making Cas whimper. Then, he nipped at Cas’ jaw.

“When I finally get around to sliding into you, you want it rough then too?” Purred Dean. “Want me to not hold back? Want me to make you scream?” He nipped Cas’ jaw again. “Or do you want me to take it slow… finger you open and fill you up little by little until you’ve taken all of me and you’re a whimpering wreck as I kiss your body and tell you how pretty you are?”

Castiel chuckled and the vibrations shook through Dean’s chest.

“Who said anything about me bottoming?”

Suddenly, Dean found himself on his back, staring up at a smug-looking Cas. He cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t bottom,” drawled Dean. “I never bottom. Not even for the ‘look-how-straight-I-am’ sports guys. Trust me, I’ll go easy on you. You’ll enjoy it.”

Cas raised his eyebrow challengingly and the look made Dean shiver as something hot and interested flared in his belly.

“I see. Well, this is going to be interesting because I’m not a bottom,” hummed Cas. He lunged forwards and pinned Dean’s arms above his head. “And I don’t intend on starting now.”

Cas’ breath was hot against his cheek and Dean couldn’t help but steal a hungry kiss. He was accustomed to guys protesting to being a bottom, but he always coaxed them around to it eventually. It looked as though Cas would require a little more persuasion.

“That’s a shame. You’ve got such a perfect ass,” Dean hummed. “It would feel amazing; me filling you up, rocking deeper and deeper as I stroke your dick. I’d play with your balls and worship your body with kisses. I’d say how beautiful you are, how delicious you taste and once I’m done filling you up, I’d wrap my lips around your pretty dick and suck your brains through it. You’d call my name as I swallow everything you have to give me and when you’re exhausted and can barely keep your eyes open, you’ll ache in all the right places and you’ll hope we’ll do it all over again in the morning. I promise, you’ve never felt anything like what I want to do to you, Cas.”

Castiel offered him an interested glance before releasing his hands and sitting upright, still straddling Dean.

“Is that a speech you’ve got memorised?” He asked dismissively. “I hope you’re not treating me like one of your conquests.”

Dean’s smirk fell.

“Trust me,” he murmured sincerely this time. “I’ll take care of you. I’m good at this. Let me make you feel good.”

Castiel trailed a finger idly over Dean’s chest, considering.

“Hm… Whilst it is a very appealing offer, I’m going to have to decline.” He fixed Dean with an amused look. “I think it’s time you changed your routine.”

Dean wasn’t one to give up so easily. “Don’t fix what’s not broken. Come on, Cas. Broaden your horizons a bit. Aren’t you even a little curious what it feels like to have my tongue in your ass? Don’t you want to know what it feels like to have someone hit your sweet spot with every thrust? I could make you feel amazing.”

Castiel chuckled and, to Dean’s surprise, placed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m not going to run away and tell everyone if it isn’t perfect. You don’t have to impress me, Dean. I’m not going anywhere and I’m certainly not about to humiliate you. You don’t have to keep up this smooth playboy act with me. Give up control for once; let someone take care of you.”

Dean was quiet for a moment as he stared up at Cas. There were too many emotions buzzing around inside him but Cas’ words had struck a chord within him. One of the main reasons he liked to top was because he was in control of the situation. He planned how he wanted everything to go and pushed his lovers in the right direction when things were starting to stray. It was why everyone thought he was such a good lover – he maximised his partner’s enjoyment and made it so there was never an awkward or dull moment. If he bottomed… he would give up control and then he wouldn’t know if he was underperforming. He didn’t know how Cas liked his partners and then Cas might be disappointed and leave and Dean couldn’t deal with that.

Castiel’s gaze softened as he cupped Dean’s cheek. “Trust me,” he whispered.

Dean hesitated again. “Cas, I… I can’t. I’ve never done it before. I’ll be terrible at it.”

Cas smiled and stole a gentle kiss. “I don’t care. Dean, relax. This isn’t about perfection. This is about you understanding that you can trust me – that I don’t want you for your reputation. I don’t want you for fantastic sex… I want you for the kind, considerate, fun person you’ve become.”

He stroked a thumb over Dean’s cheek. “You’ve changed so much already and you have no idea how amazed I am. Time for one more change. Give up control, Dean and let go of this final tie to that stupid reputation. Let me take care of you. I promise I won’t leave if it’s not perfect.”

Dean licked his lips nervously. Logically, he knew Cas wasn’t like his previous partners, who’d split the moment he dropped his performance and tell everyone how awful he was. It had happened a couple of times in High School and Dean had never forgotten the laughter and the insults that floated after him through the hallways. Sex had always been the one thing he could control. When his father’s disappointment in him had been too much to bear and his loneliness without his mother or Sam had seeped into his heart, he’d looked to sex as escapism. When his teachers told him how stupid he was, making him feel utterly worthless, and his dad hurled homophobic slurs at him and hit him after too many hours at the local bar, he’d revelled in the fact that sex was the one thing in his life that he could control.

Now Cas was asking him to give that up.

Dean blinked out of his musings to find Cas peppering reassuring kisses over his neck and shoulders. He wondered how long he’d been trapped in memories.

He remained silent as Cas wrapped his arms around him and continued pressing tiny kisses to his chest. Once he’d kissed every inch of Dean’s chest, he returned to his face and pressed his lips to his cheek, over and over until Dean was smiling. Cas grinned and moved to the other cheek, giving it the same treatment and Dean bit back a laugh as Cas’ stubble tickled his face. When he was satisfied, Castiel nuzzled into his neck and remained there, patiently waiting for Dean’s response.

“Okay,” Dean finally croaked out. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

Cas beamed at him and Dean couldn’t help but grin back because Castiel smiling was one of his favourite sights. 

“Thank you,” whispered Cas as he pressed their lips together tenderly.

Dean expected Cas to want him on his hands and knees, but Cas seemed quite content to continue peppering kisses over Dean’s body; down his chest, over his stomach, down his thighs and… _oh…_

Dean let his head fall back against the pillow as Cas pressed his lips to his half-soft dick. Cas took his time in kissing his length and Dean sighed contentedly when a tongue flicked out every so often to lap at him. Cas laved his tongue over his balls and nuzzled into dark hair, breathing his scent in before carefully taking Dean into his mouth. He was warm and wet and Dean could already feel himself hardening as Cas bobbed his head. It took Dean every ounce of willpower to not thrust into his friend’s mouth but Cas squeezed his thigh before hooking his fingers around his hips, and Dean suddenly realised that was exactly what Cas wanted him to do.

Dean rocked into Cas’ mouth gently and when Cas squeezed his hips in encouragement, one of Dean’s hands wandered into not-quite-black hair, clutching it as his thrusts quickened. One of Cas’ hand shifted to fondle his balls and Dean let out a quiet groan as a tongue slid over his length.

After a couple of minutes of Dean’s soft panting, Cas slowly trailed a finger down Dean’s perineum and to his entrance. Without having to be asked, Dean slung an arm out towards the drawer beside the bed and fumbled inside it for a bottle. He grasped it and offered it to Cas, who took it silently.

The next thing Dean knew, Cas’ cool, slick finger pressed inside him, slow and cautious. Dean smirked as Cas’ gaze fell on his face in question. There was no burn and no discomfort. Just because Dean didn’t bottom with a partner, it didn’t mean he didn’t play with himself. Dean wasn’t quite ready to tell Cas about the toys in the bottom draw of his wardrobe, but he had a feeling the other man’s face would light up when he did.

Raising an eyebrow, Cas inserted another finger, slipping them in and out of Dean at a lazy pace. When Dean continued smirking, Cas caught on and pushed deeper, twisting his fingers a little as he did so. Dean closed his eyes and relaxed into the mattress. 

When Cas entered a third finger, there was a slight burn and his hips jerked upwards, making Cas gag and pull off his dick. Dean’s head shot up, eyes round in apology (and maybe fear), but Cas merely smiled and pressed deeper into Dean, making him groan at the combination of pain and pleasure. Cas watched him for a little while as he loosened him up and Dean wasn’t sure how to handle being observed as he groaned and arched against his friend’s fingers. Still, Cas was smiling and Dean watched as his free hand reached out to stroke his impressive erection. He moaned as Cas’ fist closed around him and he clutched the mattress since the covers had fallen away when Cas had shimmied down his body.

When Cas was pleased with his handiwork, he removed his fingers from Dean to stroke his own length, but Dean shot upright again and batted Cas’ hand away. Cas watched him in amusement, but didn’t push him away as Dean began to pump him roughly. 

A minute later and Dean was pinned to the bed by Cas’ body, groaning gutturally as Cas slid into him. He yanked his lover’s head down for a filthy kiss, which Cas seemed to adore, and he hooked his legs around his friend’s hips, offering a better angle for Cas. They ravished one another’s mouths as Cas thrust in and out of Dean and soon, Dean couldn’t remember why he’d refused this earlier. His hands roamed over Cas’ chest and back, feeling the sweat beginning to coat his skin and his fingers nearly burned from the heat beneath them. Cas cupped his cheek as Dean tugged him closer and soon, their bodies were flush with one another as Cas gave up on trying to hold himself above Dean. 

Dean’s nails scraped over Cas’ back lightly, basking in the feeling of their hot skin pressed together and he swallowed Cas’ groan when he squeezed his thighs against his lover’s hips, drawing him closer. Dean’s erection was trapped between their bellies and every slide of Cas’ body against his own granted him a delicious friction to complement the pressure he was slowly becoming undone by.

He cried out when Cas finally found his prostate. Cas was gripping his waist hard enough to bruise as he thrust harshly into that same spot, over and over until Dean was a panting, writhing mess below him.

“Cas,” he begged, clutching at Castiel’s back desperately. He could hear his friend beginning to lose his composure too.

Cas pressed his lips to his neck as he quickened his pace and combined with the pressure against his dick and the burn of his hole and the blinding pleasure as Cas hit his prostate with every thrust, Dean came embarrassingly quickly. Cas smirked into his neck the moment he felt the stickiness between them, so Dean rutted against him roughly and the change in angle had Cas coming soon after.

Dean suddenly felt full and content and he realised, for the first time ever, he hadn’t grabbed a condom.

He panicked for a brief moment, but then Cas slipped out of him and flopped onto his chest lazily, nuzzling at his cheek with a happy smile.

“I’m so sorry, Cas. I should have offered you a condom- ”

“You said you’re clean and I believe you,” dismissed Cas with a careless wave of his hand. He snuggled closer and Dean quickly relaxed as his worries dissipated. Castiel was… different to all his other partners.

“Did I… did I do alright?” Dean asked, suddenly wanting approval. What if Cas was disappointed? What if he hadn’t pleasured Cas enough and now his friend was having second thoughts about a relationship between them? 

Cas slung an arm over him and squeezed him reassuringly. “You were perfect. Stop worrying.”

“You sure? Because if you’re disappointed I can- ”

Castiel cut him off with a slow kiss to his lips. He pulled away and gazed at Dean warmly.

“I’m proud of you.”

Dean snapped his mouth shut and stared at his lover for a whole minute before burying his face into his neck and trying to convince himself that grown men didn’t cry. He genuinely couldn’t remember anyone ever telling him that they were proud of him.

Cas held him silently, kissing his hair every so often and Dean was struck with the notion that this was all so sedate and easy. Talking to Cas always brought him joy and now it seemed that sex felt just as natural. He didn’t have to pretend around Cas; didn’t have to live up to his reputation or worry what would happen if he didn’t. Castiel wanted him for, well, him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” murmured Cas and Dean nearly whined when Cas sat up and swung his legs off the bed. Although he did get a long look at his friend’s sculpted body and ruffled hair so he bit back his complaints.

Cas returned with a damp cloth and a towel and they sat beside one another on the bed, cleaning one another up and sharing long kisses.

“I should probably close the curtains in case anyone’s spying on us,” hummed Dean once they were finished and Cas walked past the window, stark naked, in order to return the cloth and towel to the ensuite bathroom.

Cas paused and stared at the large window before dropping his gaze to his own exposed body. 

“I hope they enjoyed the show,” he muttered, unfazed and Dean cracked a grin before following through with his suggestion. He returned to the bed and watched Cas shuffle into the bedroom and hover in the middle of the room.

He gestured awkwardly to the bed. “…Is it alright if I…?”

Dean rolled his eyes and patted the space next to him. “Are you seriously asking if you can sleep with me after you’ve just dumped your load inside me?”

Cas scrunched his nose up at the crudeness and Dean huffed out a laugh as Cas slipped into bed with him. He laughed again when Cas immediately latched onto him, wrapping his arms around his middle as he tangled their legs together and pushed his nose into his neck.

Dean curled an arm around Cas and kissed his forehead. “Alexa, turn off lights in Dean’s room.”

The room was suddenly plunged into darkness and for a moment there was a peaceful silence.

Then, Castiel began to snicker.

“I love this suite,” he whispered.

Dean grinned. “Hey, you’re welcome to stay over any time. I love having you around.”

Can cuddled closer. “Maybe next time, I’ll bottom.”

Dean felt his lower half stir at the image that brought to his mind. “Really?”

Cas nodded and kissed his neck. “I’m all for trying new things.”

Dean kissed Cas’ head again and settled into the pillows.

He had a feeling his life was about to get a lot more fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between updates! Here's an extra long chapter as an apology!


	23. Chapter 23

Dean awoke slowly, a happy warmth clouding his brain. He stretched mildly and glanced down at the pressure on his chest, smiling at the sight of Cas leaning on him, arms still curled around his middle possessively. He automatically stroked Castiel’s back as his senses returned to him and he relished the heat of Cas’ bare skin beneath his fingertips.

He could get used to waking up like this.

Cas stirred a few minutes later and Dean admired his small, confused frown as he blinked awake and tried to remember where he was. The memories must have returned rather quickly because the frown faded and a contented smile pulled at his lips instead.

“Mornin’, Angel,” Dean hummed without thinking and Cas quirked an amused eyebrow at him before rolling off his chest and flopping onto the other pillows.

“Good morning, Human,” Cas teased, voice ten shades deeper than usual. 

Dean rolled his eyes and watched his own hand reach out to pet Cas’ hair, reorganising it into some sort of order from its scruffy state.

“Sleep well?” Asked Dean quietly.

“Like the dead,” grunted Cas, voice still rough. Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re a very comfortable pillow,” Cas continued, closing his eyes as he pushed his head into Dean’s palm.

“Glad to be of service.”

Castiel cocked a lop-sided grin before rolling onto his side again and nuzzling into Dean’s neck.

“What time is it?” He asked curiously.

Dean glanced over at the clock and his eyes widened into saucers. “Eleven.”

Cas shot upright and stared at Dean, bewildered. “What?”

Dean stared back. “I didn’t set the alarm last night,” he whispered in horror.

“I’ve missed my first two lectures.”

“I’ve missed practice.”

They stared at one another for a moment longer before Castiel threw the covers off himself and raced to the bathroom. “Dibs on first shower!”

Dean snorted in amusement before sliding out of bed and leaning on the doorframe as he watched Cas switch the shower on. He admired the strong muscles of Cas’ back and the firmness of his ass before nodding to the cupboard above the sink.

“Spare, unopened toothbrush in there if you want it. Fresh towels are under the sink. Even have a shower cap if you use them.”

Cas offered him a grateful glance and Dean smirked.

“Y’know… we could save time if we shower together.”

Cas’ eyes twinkled with mischief and he stepped over to the sink and searched the cupboard for the unopened toothbrush. Dean grabbed a towel for Cas and set it beside his own before joining his lover at the sink to brush his own teeth. Once they were finished, the shower had dragged itself up to temperature and Cas shoved Dean under the spray, kissing him eagerly as soon as Dean’s back hit the cool tiles.

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas securely and they melted into one another, holding each other close as they lapped inside one another’s mouths. Dean pulled away after a few moments and squirted a generous helping of shower gel into his palm, for once forgoing the sponge. Cas observed him curiously, arms still around his neck, and Dean kissed him playfully before smoothing his palm over Cas’ back and building up a lather. Cas sighed happily and began peppering kisses over Dean’s neck, so Dean made sure to pay careful to every inch of Cas’ skin (particularly his ass cheeks, which he very much enjoyed groping). He turned Cas around after a few moments and pulled his lover’s back to his chest before smoothing his soapy hand over Cas’ chest and belly. When his hand wandered lower to wash Cas’ groin, he dropped his head to his lover’s shoulder and mouthed at lightly scented skin. 

Castiel hummed contentedly and closed his eyes, leaning into Dean’s body and the taller man slid his free arm around Cas’ middle, holding him close and kissing his neck as he fondled his lover.

They swapped positions after a few minutes and Dean sighed blissfully. “Any chance I can get you to skip lectures today?”

Castiel smirked into his shoulder. “Depends on what you have in mind.”

“Well, first I was gonna make you some breakfast. Or maybe lunch depending on what time we get out of here. Then, I was thinking maybe I could introduce you to the piano? It’s kina old but I think it’s in tune.”

Castiel cocked an eyebrow and swivelled his head to stare at Dean. “You want me to serenade you?”

“No. I just remember you saying something about not knowing we had a piano. I was thinking I could get my guitar out and… you know…” Dean shrugged awkwardly and Castiel’s smile widened.

“You want to play together?”

Dean straightened. “Well… I mean… I’m not that great or anything but you are and I figured at the very least I could play a couple of accompanying chords and- ”

“I would love to,” Castiel grinned.

Dean’s face brightened. “Seriously?”

Cas nodded, a smirk forming on his lips. “After lectures.”

Dean deflated immediately. “Dude, don’t make me go into college today.” Arms snaked around Cas’ waist as Dean turned to face him. “Can’t I stay with you instead?”

Cas chuckled and shook his head. “You are not using me as a distraction, Dean Winchester. As hot as I am, you still have to attend your classes.”

Dean grinned and let his palm smooth over Cas’ bare back. “You could join me.”

“I have my own lectures to attend,” said Castiel before his gaze softened. “I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the day, Dean. I meant what I said last night. I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“You sure?” Asked Dean quietly, tugging Cas a fraction closer. 

Castiel smiled and nodded, sliding a palm over Dean’s arm. “I want this. I want you.”

“I want you too, Angel,” Dean murmured, leaning in for a chaste kiss. Castiel cocked an amused eyebrow at the pet name, but said nothing.

They quickly rinsed one another off and hastily dried each other down before Dean offered Cas some of his clothes to spend the day in.

“I can wear what I had on yesterday,” protested Cas.

“Or you can wear something clean,” snorted Dean, holding out a small stack of clothes for his lover to take.

Castiel smiled gratefully and Dean absolutely did not stare as Cas pulled his clothes on. He certainly didn’t think about how much he liked Cas wearing his stuff.

“Does this mean I can’t make you breakfast?” Pouted Dean as they trotted downstairs together. It seemed Gabriel and Sam had showed up to their classes on time.

“Maybe tomorrow,” winked Cas and Dean’s face lit up in excitement at the promise of another night together.

They grabbed their college bags and made their way out of the suite.

 

* * *

 

They forgot about Castiel’s two-hour orchestra rehearsal. Which meant Cas forgot his music pad.

Billie crossed her arms in disapproval and glared between Cas’ sheepish face and Dean’s guilty one.

“Either play by memory or find an electronic device you can download the part onto. I have no spares,” said Billie curtly. Cas grimaced and fumbled for his phone. The display wasn’t really big enough, but he could manage.

Billie then turned to Dean and with an unimpressed raised eyebrow and a critical assessment of his entire body, from head to foot and back again, she jutted a hip out.

“I hope you’re not thinking of staying.”

Dean blinked in surprise, wondering what he’d done to deserve the hostility. 

“I was gonna watch Cas play,” he frowned.

“And hook up with him after rehearsal? Oh please, Winchester. I know what you want.” She narrowed her eyes sharply. “We have a contest in four weeks and the last thing I need is you distracting my players. You’ve already ruined the rehearsal by making Castiel forget his music, I won’t let you interfere with any more. Now, leave. For the next few weeks, no visitors during rehearsals.” She turned to the rest of the orchestra. “Everyone got that? No friends or significant others tagging along. We have a contest coming up and honestly, I’m embarrassed at the lack of progress we’ve made. No distractions from now on, including no phones.”

Dean scowled. “Look, I’m not going to interfere. I’ll just sit in the back and- ”

“What don’t you understand about _‘no visitors’_?” Huffed Billie. “I knew you were stupid, Winchester, but I didn’t think you were _that_ stupid.”

Dean snapped his mouth shut and Cas paused halfway to the piano to whirl around and scowl at the conductor.

“That’s enough, Billie,” he growled, making everyone stare at him in surprise. Castiel was usually so placid and reserved. He barely ever engaged in arguments.

Billie’s lips drew into a thin line. “I never believed you’d screw him, Novak. I thought you were better than that but apparently I was wrong.” 

Dean paled. Cas was being mocked for associating with him. He’d ruined his friend’s reputation all because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. 

“What makes you think I slept with him?” Cas challenged, narrowing his gaze.

Dean flinched. Although he believed Cas would be better off staying away from him, the denial of their night together hurt.

Billie rolled her eyes. “The vampire bites on your neck, for one thing.”

Castiel blinked and brushed his fingertips over the hickeys marring his neck and shoulder. He’d forgotten about them. Dean winced.

“I see,” Cas said, pursing his lips. “Well, in that case, you’re correct. I did sleep with him. I’ll probably do it again tonight. Is there anything else you’d like to know about my personal life?”

Dean felt numb as he watched Billie turn her nose up in disgust as she stepped over to the conductor’s stand. The other members of the orchestra had broken out into whispers and murmurs of surprise.

“Palladio. From the top,” she said as she shuffled through her music, completely ignoring Castiel. “Winchester, you know where the door is.”

Dean began to slink off towards the exit, chest hollow. He wasn’t entirely sure why Cas’ words had hurt him, but the callous way he’d stated that they’d slept together was making him question whether this relationship was any different to the ones he’d had before. He knew it was early days, but still… was he truly that repulsive? Was the idea of anyone having a relationship with him something to be scoffed at and made fun of? Maybe Billie was right to be disgusted by him.

“I’ll pick you up after rehearsal,” called Castiel suddenly. “We’re still on for our date, right? Meal and a movie?”

Dean paused in confusion and turned around to find Cas gazing at him softly, a smile hinting through his expression. Then his gaze gained a sharp edge to it, which Dean had a feeling only he recognised.

“Because I’d hate for anyone to interfere with our plans, just because their sole purpose on this Earth is to kill everyone's social lives.”

Some people began to snicker as Billie glared daggers into Cas’ head. Dean perked up a little as he realised Cas was, in his own way, trying to tell everyone to butt out of their relationship.

“Oh, uh… yeah. Sure. See you after rehearsal.”

“I suppose the rumours of his bed skills are true, then,” muttered Billie under her breath as she raised her baton.

“Actually, I find they’re rather understated,” said Cas coldly. “And I’d appreciate you keeping your biased judgements about my boyfriend to yourself.”

There was a round of quiet gasps and more muttering, but Dean barely heard it because had Cas really just referred to him as his boyfriend? He felt a grin sliding over his face.

Billie stared at Castiel for a moment before returning to her music. “From the top,” she repeated, glaring at anyone who didn’t have their instrument raised.

The orchestra launched into the piece but Cas winked at Dean with a small smile before catching up to the correct bar.

Dean sauntered out of the music department with a wide grin.

 

* * *

 

“So… did you have a good time last night?” Smirked Gabriel as Sam bit back laughter beside him on the couch.

Dean brushed a finger down his own neck and realised how tender the skin was. Maybe hickeys on the first date wasn’t such a good idea.

“I did,” Dean replied nonchalantly, focusing on whatever _Doctor Sexy_ episode was rolling on the TV.

“And Cas?” Hummed Gabriel innocently.

“I think so,” shrugged Dean.

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Dude, you’re not seriously trying to pretend like nothing happened? Cas was wearing your clothes today. And his stuff is in our washing machine. And we all saw the bottle of lube on your night stand.”

Dean frowned. “You went into my room?”

“You left the door wide open this morning, kiddo. Probably because all you could think of was dark hair, a blue gaze and a pair of pretty pink lips,” winked Gabriel. Sam snorted beside him.

“When you gave him your clothes this morning, did you give him regular underwear or those pink silk panties?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened as he whipped his head around to face Sam. “Dean has pink panties?”

Sam smirked. “And a special toy drawer.”

Gabriel looked absolutely thrilled as he beamed at a red-faced Dean. “What kind of toys?”

“Not another word!” Growled Dean as he wagged a finger at his smirking brother. “And you!” He said, glaring at Gabriel. “Yes, I slept with Cas, but keep your mouth shut about everything you’ve just heard. I don’t want to scare him off too soon.”

Gabriel chuckled and placed a hand over his heart, before miming zipping his lips.

“I just… I have a good feeling about him,” murmured Dean quietly, a small smile touching his lips. 

Sam’s smirk softened. “Yeah? As in a _‘he’s the one’_ kind of feeling?” He asked, squeezing Gabriel gently and making the older man’s eyes crinkle in delight.

Dean shrugged. “Maybe? It’s too early to tell. But I don’t want this to be like the others. Cas is… he’s special.”

Gabriel and Sam glanced at one another and Dean shifted awkwardly before standing up. “I’m uh… I’m gonna go tidy up my room.”

Gabriel’s smirk turned wicked. “Yeah, you do that.”

Dean rolled his eyes and ignored his brother’s amused grin as he traipsed upstairs and began making the bed and cleaning the bathroom. Once he was satisfied, he returned to his room to hide the stupid bottle of lube in his drawer but when he opened it, he paused at the sight of his journal staring back up at him. He curled his lips in disgust. He hadn’t touched this book in quite a while and seeing it now made him queasy. This was the book he wrote all his ‘conquests’ in; all the people he’d slept with, where, when and any other comments about his partners. He picked up the journal and opened it on a random page, scanning through its contents with a frown.

_**Cassie Robinson (20) – March 3rd 2016  
In Cassie’s parents’ room. Female, mixed race, straight. Wouldn’t screw again** _

Dean scrunched his nose up and flicked his gaze to another entry, anger at himself building within him.

_**Cole Trenton (24) – March 7th 2016  
Back of his truck. Male, white, ‘straight’. Likes BDSM. Bit of a freak. Think I’ve turned him gay** _

_**Leona Cavern (25) – March 10th 2016  
In her room. Trans female, Indian, ‘lesbian’. Not a lesbian anymore!** _

Dean grimaced and shook his head in disbelief as he scanned through the next entries. What had he been thinking? Most of his comments were cruel and offensive and when he flicked through the pages and spotted the entry for Balthazar, he averted his gaze and winced. He didn’t even want to remember what he’d written about poor Balthazar.

The book had to go.

Mind made up, Dean started towards the door, flicking through the pages idly one last time before he never saw the horror show of a journal ever again. He noticed the book wasn’t entirely complete and he hesitated on the last entry. _Castiel Novak._

He snapped the book shut before he could get any further. He had no intention of reading anything awful about Cas.

He made it to the door handle before gingerly easing the book open once more and taking a peek at the last entry.

__**Castiel Novak (26) –  
*Bet with Sam. Deadline is November 28th 2018.  
RULES: Dean Winchester must sleep with Castiel Novak before 11:59 pm on due date. If he fails, Sam Winchester is gifted keys to Impala. If he succeeds, Sam Winchester must date Gabriel Milton for remainder of medicine course.**

Both his and Sam's signatures were scribbled below and Dean felt his face lose colour as his throat dried up. It dawned on him that the current date was the 29th and his traitorous brain informed him that since he’d slept with Castiel the night before, he’d won the bet.

He squeezed his eyes shut and forced those thoughts out of his head. How could he have made such an awful bet? Had he and Sam truly been so cold and unfeeling? Had they really thought it acceptable to use people like that? To treat people like unimportant social experiments? 

He thought about the warm feelings in his chest whenever he was around Cas; the nervous fluttering in his stomach whenever Cas grinned and made the corners of his eyes wrinkle and his gaze sparkle. He thought about Sam and Gabriel cuddled together on the couch downstairs, smiling and chatting and teasing one another.

Castiel and Gabriel couldn’t find out about the journal. He had to get rid of it before they saw it.

He scowled at the door. If he went downstairs now to throw it away, Gabriel or Sam were sure to spot it and ask what he was holding. He needed to do it when there was no one around. He tightened his grip on the journal and marched over to his bedside table, throwing it into the drawer unceremoniously. He hated himself for what he’d written and what he’d done and he wanted nothing more to do with the disgraceful book. He would rid the suite of it first chance he got.

 

* * *

 

“So, what kinda takeout were you guys thinking of? Chinese, Indian, Pizza?” Asked Sam as he shrugged off his coat and hung it behind the door. He turned to the others, offering his hand out for them to sling their coats over.

“Pizza is great pre-night-out food,” chirped Charlie as she draped her coat over Sam’s arm.

“I second that,” hummed Garth; a friend of Kevin and Charlie’s, whom Sam had only met the day previous. He seemed like a laid-back guy with a gentle character. “As long as it doesn’t have pineapple on it.”

Kevin grunted in agreement and made his way over to the couch, flopping onto it gracelessly. A day of dissection classes had made him reluctant to join them on a trip to the nightclub, but Charlie was a master at convincing people to do things she wanted them to do.

“Local or chain?” Asked Gabriel as he pottered off towards the phone and Sam smiled at the thought of Gabriel treating the suite like his own home. 

“ _Domino’s,_ ” Charlie stated, nose scrunched up at the thought of pizza from anywhere else.

Gabriel held his hands out, pretending to placate her before grabbing the phone. They rattled off their toppings and Gabriel dialled the number and repeated the order. Once they’d been informed that their delivery would take thirty minutes, they joined Kevin on the couches. Charlie, Garth and Kevin tried to chip in for the meal, but Sam shook his head and rejected their payment. When they protested, he cocked an eyebrow.

“Trust me, I can afford to treat you to a few pizzas. Did you want to watch a movie whilst we’re eating?”

“ _The Hobbit_!” Crowed Charlie excitedly and the others groaned.

“It’s three hours long!” Exclaimed Kevin. “We can’t watch that and go out!”

Charlie pouted. “It’s a great film,” she mumbled.

“How about _Ready Player One_?” Asked Garth idly. “It’s just nerdy enough to keep Charlie entertained and she’ll probably be able to explain all the references.”

The others murmured in a combination of curiosity and agreement and Sam flipped the TV on to browse through Netflix for the film.

There was a knock on the door.

Charlie frowned. “That was a quick thirty minutes.”

Sam stood, equally as confused and he wandered to the door, swinging it open to find a relaxed-looking Castiel waiting outside. He was wearing smart black trousers and a silver shirt etched with delicate black feathers and his hair was fluffed as though he’d just washed it. He looked handsome and ready to go somewhere a little more upmarket than the local club.

“Hey, Cas. You two going on another date?” Asked Sam in surprise. His brother usually left at least a day between seeing his partners, but since sleeping with one another on Wednesday night, the pair had been practically attached at the hip. They had gone out for a meal and a movie yesterday evening and apparently, they were going on another date tonight.

Castiel smiled softly and nodded and Sam found himself returning the expression. The warmth in Cas’ gaze offered Sam a hint of what his brother obviously saw in Cas and Sam was glad that Dean had found someone good for himself.

“Come in,” Sam said, stepping aside for the older man and Castiel entered the suite and smiled politely at Sam’s friends.

Gabriel eyed him appreciatively with a low whistle. “Dean’s a lucky boy.”

Castiel chuckled but his gaze lit up when Dean popped his head over the balcony. Dean grinned brightly and Sam bit back a smile at how far gone his brother was on Castiel. They’d only known each other for a month.

“Just finishing up. I’ll be down in a sec,” said Dean before he disappeared into his room again, leaving Cas to wait on the couch with Sam’s enthusiastic friends.

Sam watched his new friends introduce themselves to Castiel and he smiled when Gabriel immediately began teasing the other man for his attire. They waited a few minutes before Dean jogged downstairs, clutching something under his arm. Sam frowned in confusion when Dean darted into the kitchen for a brief moment and returned without whatever it was that he’d been carrying. Sam flicked his gaze over to the others, but it seemed as though they were too immersed in conversation to have noticed Dean’s odd behaviour.

Dean quickly plastered on a grin and Sam once again bit back a laugh at his brother’s outfit. He’d never seen Dean look so classy.

“Where are you guys going?” Asked Gabriel curiously as his gaze roamed over Dean’s shiny shoes, black trousers and rich-red shirt. It looked as though he’d even gelled his hair.

“Dean is taking me to a special restaurant that doubles as a dance floor. Apparently, there’s a live band,” Castiel answered smoothly.

At Dean’s rapidly reddening face, Gabriel smirked. “I’m guessing we’re not talking club dancing here?”

Castiel shook his head. “More like waltzing and slow dancing. I’m rather looking forward to it.”

Sam didn’t miss the way Castiel slid his hand into Dean’s, soothing his embarrassed brother.

“I hope you have a good night,” hummed Gabriel, an amused expression on his face as Dean stared at the floor.

“And you,” replied Cas graciously, glancing over everyone in the room before finally turning towards Dean and gesturing to the door. “Shall we?” He asked, still holding Dean’s hand.

Dean followed him obediently, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, but Sam had a feeling he would relax once he was alone with Castiel. It was odd seeing his brother nervous about a date. He couldn’t remember Dean ever being worried about failing to impress his partner.

“What do you guys want to drink?” He asked after a moment.

“Beer.”

“Beer.”

“Beer.”

“Pina Colada.”

Sam’s lips twitched upwards. “Why have you always got to be difficult?”

Gabriel grinned and fluttered his eyelashes at Sam and the younger man shook his head and wandered into the kitchen.

He grabbed a few beers from the fridge and collected the ingredients for Gabriel’s Pina Colada. When he came to the end of the coconut cream, he made to throw away the container, but paused at the sight of an untitled book staring up at him amidst the trash. Frowning, he reached into the bin and pulled out the book, grimacing at the smear of ketchup gracing the back cover. He would never throw away a book, so he had to assume it belonged to Dean. 

When he finally got a proper look at the garbage-free book, he scrunched his nose in disgust. He was glad Dean had finally decided to get rid of the thing. He flicked through the pages in distaste, barely reading any words, and shook his head at how many pages were filled. How had Dean slept with so many people?

When he came to the last entry, he snorted and was about to close the book when he caught Gabriel’s name scrawled amongst a block of writing. Curious, he read the entry entitled _‘Castiel Novak’_ and the further he got, the more his face drained of colour. At the end of the small contract lay his and Dean’s signatures.

Sam swallowed thickly. He’d forgotten about the bet. He’d forgotten how his whole friendship with Gabriel had started.

How could he have ever thought so poorly of Gabriel? How could he have treated Gabriel as nothing more than part of a losing bet? The man was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

When the idle realisation that Dean had won the bet flitted through his mind, Sam snapped the book shut and closed his eyes. What would happen if Gabriel were to find out? What would Sam do if his lover told him he hated him and wanted to end what they had all because he thought Sam was dating him because of some stupid lost bet? What would Sam do if he ever lost Gabe? 

Maybe Dean felt the same way about Cas and that’s why he’d tried to throw the book out. He and Dean had been total assholes and now they couldn’t let Gabe or Cas find out about the bet. Not yet anyway. Castiel and Gabriel meant too much to them to lose. They couldn’t find out about the book.

“Watcha got there, kiddo?” Came Gabriel’s voice from directly behind Sam.

Sam startled and immediately thrust the journal behind his back as he turned to face his grinning lover.

“Huh? Oh, just one of Dean’s old journals from a long time ago,” Sam lied a little shakily. “It’s out of date so I guess he decided to throw it away.”

Gabriel’s eyes lit up. “An old journal? Well, let’s take it into the living room and have a nosey through! I’m sure there’s going to be some great stuff in there that everyone will want to hear.” He smirked wickedly and Sam’s eyes rounded.

“No!”

Gabriel recoiled at the blurted reply, brows furrowed and Sam winced and brought the journal in view of the other man.

“It’s um… it’s not that kind of journal. More of a diary, really,” mumbled Sam. “It ah… states the dates and names of the people he used to… y’know… back before Cas.”

Gabriel curled his lips in a similar reaction to Sam’s earlier one. “Oh. Is that the one Balthazar mentioned?”

Sam nodded, still clutching the book.

Gabriel pulled another face and turned to the beers on the counter, quickly losing interest in the journal. 

“Good riddance to it,” he huffed as he grabbed the beers and headed towards the living room. “Still waiting on my cocktail!”

Sam released a silent sigh of relief before dumping the book where it belonged and returning to the task of concocting Gabriel’s drink. 

No one had to know about the bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting more plotty now!
> 
> On another note, I hope no one minds me interchanging Englishisms and Americanisms like 'trash can' and 'bin' or 'elevator' and 'lift'. I kind of like having different words for the same object! Hope you enjoyed!


	24. Chapter 24

“Is it true?” Meg demanded as she, Balthazar, Gadreel and Hannah joined Castiel at the booth. “Did you sleep with him?”

Castiel chewed on his sandwich slowly, one eyebrow arching upwards. He took a long moment to swallow and delicately returned his sandwich to his lunch box before clasping his hands together on the table.

“Good afternoon, Megan. How were your lectures?”

Meg pulled a face at the use of her full name. “Boring. Whatever. So, is it true or not?” She insisted.

Castiel’s lips drew into a thin line when he noticed the whole table was staring at him impatiently.

“You’ll have to clarify,” he said drily. Really, why was his sexual life suddenly everyone else’s business?

“Dean!” Huffed Meg hotly. “Did you sleep with Dean Winchester? Yes or no?”

“Oh,” hummed Cas. “Yes.” He picked up his sandwich again.

“I knew it!” Crowed Meg before turning to Gadreel. “You owe me twenty dollars!”

Gadreel stared at Castiel in shock as Balthazar’s expression suddenly grew sour. Cas pretended not to notice.

“I told you that everyone he sets his sights on always ends up sleeping with him,” Meg continued, waggling a finger at Cas. “No one ever says ‘no’ for long.” She snatched the bill that Gadreel offered her.

The corners of Cas’ mouth turned downwards but he otherwise ignored his friend.

“Pity we won’t get to go to the suite anymore,” commented Meg. “I was kinda warming to the new Dean.”

Castiel frowned and glanced up at Meg. “What makes you think he won’t invite you around anymore?”

He was confused when the entire table stared at him as though he’d just announced he had an identical twin hidden in his basement. 

“Well… he’s finally got into your pants now. There’s no need to keep this ‘nice guy’ act up, is there?” Meg frowned, clearly surprised at Castiel’s apparent lack of logic. “It’s not as though he ever keeps his conquests for long.”

Balthazar snorted. “He’ll probably be hunting someone new by the end of the week. You’ll just be another statistic, like me.”

Castiel bristled, dropping his sandwich again in favour of clenching his fists on the table.

“The man opened his heart and his home to you and this is how you repay him? With petty comments and personal biases?” He hissed, taking satisfaction in the way the others reared back at his tone. “He gave up his friends for us, paid for our meals, changed his entire character for us… and you just… dismiss him like dirt? You ridicule him for his reputation, yet when he tries to change, you assume he has ulterior motives and belittle him anyway? Will he ever be good enough for you?”

Meg’s jaw worked open and closed for a moment, stunned at Castiel’s outburst. Gadreel and Hannah at least had the decency to look ashamed of themselves. Balthazar’s expression darkened.

“Be reasonable, Castiel,” he said lowly. “Why should we trust him? He said he’s changed yet he’s still gone and convinced you to sleep with him. He’s no different. He’s just pretending to be so you’ll like him.”

“Balthazar has a point,” Gadreel said quietly before Castiel could express his anger. “Dean has slept with hundreds of people. He has to act in a way he knows will appeal to them and obviously he’s a good actor because not one of his targets have refused him. Most of them are one-night stands and the ones that aren’t, don’t keep him interested for very long. No offense but why would you be any different?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Because I was the one who came onto him, not the other way around. I knew Dean would never make a move until I initiated it. Dean was actively trying to push me away as a potential romantic partner and I physically had to kiss him before he would see me as anything more than a friend.”

“Or he was acting like that,” scoffed Balthazar. “Pretending he didn’t want you so you finally made a move on him. Cassie, this is what he does. He’s good at it. I made the first move back when I was his target. I’m sorry but you’re not special. He’s just good at making you feel that way.”

Castiel frowned. No, they were wrong. They didn’t understand.

“He’s different,” Cas said. “I took him on a date the day after our night together and he took me on one the evening after, then I spent all weekend at his place. This isn’t just a one-night stand. There’s something more going on.”

Meg looked troubled. “Cas, are you… do you like him?”

Castiel straightened. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have slept with him if I didn’t. Like I said, this isn’t a one-night stand. Dean wants something more. He told me as much.”

Meg and Gadreel shared a worried glance and Hannah stared at him a little pityingly. Balthazar looked angry.

“And what exactly do you think he told me back when I was sharing his bed?” Balthazar snapped. “Why do you think I fell for him?”

Castiel gritted his teeth. He would not be swayed by his friends. Dean had changed and it was up to them to find that out.

“This is different,” Castiel said quietly as he worked to calm himself. This argument was pointless. He knew he was right and sooner or later so would his friends.

Balthazar was silent for a moment, obviously waiting for Castiel to explode but when it never came, he crossed his arms. 

“Just be careful,” he grumbled. “I don’t want to see you hurt and whilst Dean’s a charmer, he also has no regard for anyone’s feelings. Don’t fall for him – you’ll regret it if you do. He’ll only break your heart.”

Castiel didn’t bother to grace that comment with a reply. He refused to even acknowledge that Balthazar had spoken because how _dare_ he look down upon Dean like that. He understood that Balthazar had been hurt but Dean had apologised profusely for that and he’d become a better man since then. How much more did Dean have to prove himself?

“Hey guys! How’s the day going?” 

Castiel bit back a smug smirk when the rest of the table averted their gazes in guilt as Dean shuffled into Cas’ side of the booth. Castiel noticed the way Dean carefully kept his hands to himself, trying not to crowd into his personal space.

Balthazar sent a filthy look in Dean’s direction when the other man wasn’t watching.

Castiel stared at Balthazar coldly before flicking his gaze to Dean.

“They know,” he said drily and Dean looked startled for a moment before a sheepish expression crossed his face.

“Ah. News travels fast, huh?” He slid an arm casually around Cas’ shoulder and shot his lover a grin. “Hope you guys don’t mind.”

When there was no response, Dean frowned in confusion and turned to find Balthazar glaring at him icily and the others looking anywhere but at him. He slowly slid his arm away from Cas, which made the older man scowl.

“…Do you guys mind?” Dean asked quietly.

Once again, silence greeted him and Dean clasped his hands together nervously. Castiel narrowed his eyes and wrapped a pointed arm around his waist.

“Of course they don’t,” he murmured, loud enough for the entire table to hear, before pressing a sweet kiss to Dean’s jaw. Dean’s lips twitched into a smile, but the everlasting silence made the expression quickly fade.

“Look, I know I’ve not exactly been the best guy in the world and I’ve not got a stunning reputation, but… I really like Cas. I promise I’m gonna do everything I can to make him happy,” Dean said sincerely before he smiled at Cas tenderly. “I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

After a moment, Hannah must have seen something in Dean’s expression because she smiled and nodded. “Well, I’ve got no problems with it and you two make a pretty cute couple.”

Gadreel nodded slowly in agreement. “If you two are happy…” He said, sounding a little unsure.

Meg shrugged. “I don’t know how you did it, Dean, but congratulations, I suppose. Cas doesn’t just hook up with anyone.”

Dean’s smile widened in relief and he kissed Cas’ cheek happily.

Castiel raised an eyebrow at the still glowering Balthazar and Dean followed his line of sight curiously.

“Break his heart and I will hurt you, Winchester,” Balthazar said coolly. “You don’t deserve him.”

Dean’s eyes widened and Castiel stiffened.

“Balthazar!” He growled.

“He doesn’t!” Balthazar spat as he stood up. He turned to Dean, disgust in his gaze. “So, yes; I do mind.”

They stared after him as he disappeared into the crowd of the dining hall. 

A thick scowl marred Castiel’s face as he wrapped his arm a little more securely around Dean.

“Ignore him,” he murmured. “He’ll come around eventually.”

Dean didn’t look very convinced as he stared at the crowd of people Balthazar had been swept up in. 

“I don’t want you to lose friends over me,” Dean whispered despite the others being close enough to hear him anyway. “I won’t be offended if you don’t want to see me anymore.”

Cas’ eyes widened and he squeezed Dean’s hip. “I’m not going to suddenly stop talking to you just because Balthazar’s bitter about something that happened a long time ago. He doesn’t get to dictate my love life nor does he have any say in who I’m friends with.”

“He cares about you,” murmured Dean softly. “He has every right to be worried about you after everything I’ve done.”

“He doesn’t get to threaten you,” huffed Cas. “I can take care of myself and you’ve changed. He should give you a chance.”

A small smile pulled at Dean’s lips and he squeezed Cas’ thigh gratefully. The others watched on in silence and when both Dean and Cas turned to them, they straightened and averted their gazes. Meg quickly changed topics.

“So… any ideas on a potential research project for me?” 

 

* * *

 

Sam had never been so happy to see the garbage men turn off the street. That journal would never be read by human eyes again. He smiled in relief.

“Didn’t know you aspired to be a garbage collector,” teased Gabriel and Sam flicked his gaze to his lover, chuckling at Gabe’s raised eyebrow.

“Right. I took a law degree that’s slowly sucking the joy out of my life and when I graduate with over a hundred-thousand dollars-worth of debt, my dream is to become a garbage man,” snorted Sam as they headed towards the car.

Gabriel grinned. “I think we both know that you’ll never be in debt for as long as you live. We also know that your life is filled with joy because it’s got me in it.” He winked and a smile tugged at Sam’s mouth.

“The first one is fair enough. The second one though…”

Gabriel slapped Sam’s arm, making the younger man laugh.

When they arrived at the campus, Sam’s heart fluttered as Gabriel casually slipped his hand into his. They made their way over to the centre of campus, content with the comfortable silence between them as they held each other’s hands. Sam loved the ease of it all. When it was time for them to part ways to their respective lecture theatres, Sam turned to his lover.

“So, I was thinking… since it’s nearing December and all… did you have any plans for Christmas? Like, do you have any family you’re going to spend it with?” Sam asked almost nervously.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. “Ah yes, the family who kicked me out of the house and made me live on the streets for six months for kissing a guy. You mean that family?”

Sam frowned at the reminder of Gabriel’s past before straightening.

“So, no then. In that case, do you want to come back to Kansas with me and Dean? I mean, unless you have other plans for the holidays?”

A grin wormed its way across Gabriel’s face. “Are you asking me to spend Christmas with you?”

Sam dropped his gaze shyly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just thought it would be nice to have you over and since you wouldn’t be spending it with any family…”

Gabriel chuckled. “I’d love to. As long as I’m not imposing.”

Sam’s head snapped up, a bright smile on his face. “You wouldn’t be imposing. I love having you around and Dean thinks you’re pretty awesome, so he wouldn’t have a problem with you crashing at ours.”

Gabriel’s smile widened and Sam found himself returning the expression.

“So, what do you say? Come home with me for Christmas?” Sam asked hopefully.

Gabriel slipped his arms around the younger man’s waist and stood on his tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “I can’t wait.”

Sam drew him in for a proper kiss, excitement bubbling in his chest. The holidays couldn’t come soon enough.

 

* * *

 

The following Friday night, Dean, Cas and their friends decided to pay a visit to their favourite night club. Dean tried to ignore the filthy looks Balthazar kept shooting him and acted as civil as he could with the other man, but Balthazar made that difficult by being so curt and snappish with him to the point that Castiel was on the verge of losing his temper. Fortunately, Hannah was apparently a born peace-keeper and whenever it looked as though Cas or Balthazar were readying themselves for a fight, she smoothly interrupted and whisked Balthazar away for a drink.

When Hannah once again led Balthazar to the bar after being a little too short with Dean, Cas huffed and dragged Dean to the dancefloor, needing to get away from his friends. He knew they were waiting for Dean to slip up, even if they hadn’t said it, and it was beginning to aggravate him.

He pulled Dean through a throng of students, hiding them both from Meg’s hawk-like gaze. When he could no longer see their table, he sighed and closed his eyes wearily. Dean shouldn’t have to prove himself like this.

A pair of arms snaked around his waist and pulled him to a strong chest and Castiel smiled as Dean began swaying to the beat. He leaned against his lover, letting Dean control their gentle movements.

“Relax, Cas,” murmured Dean, lips brushing his ear. “You’re wound up tighter than Sam before a pop quiz.”

Cas managed a small smile, which faded quickly. “They’re judging you,” he sighed softly, his words nearly drowned out by the deafening music. “Waiting for you to slip up and toss me aside or cheat on me. Anything to prove you’re no different to how you used to be.”

Dean nosed into his neck. “Well, can’t say I don’t deserve it,” he muttered. “I’m actually surprised you trust me as much as you do.”

Cas reared back at that, scowling at his lover. “I trust you because I’ve seen how much you’ve changed; how much you’ve given up for us. You left your friends and were willing to sit alone every break for the sake of proving you didn’t want to associate with those people anymore. You apologised to Balthazar for hurting him. You stopped pursuing me as someone you wanted to sleep with and made an effort to just be my friend. You took my advice and stopped trying to buy people’s affection. Even your studies have improved in your efforts to prove that you aren’t the same person that you were. I don’t know how else you can show everyone that you’ve changed.”

Dean smiled warmly at him, fondness twinkling behind his eyes, and he cupped Cas’ cheek and drew him in for a tender kiss. When they separated, Dean rested his forehead against his boyfriend’s as his arms curled around Cas’ waist again.

“As much as I don’t want to ruin any relationships between you and your friends, the only opinion of me that I honestly care about is yours. Everyone else can judge me however they like, but yours is the only judgement that matters.”

Cas said nothing but he did steal another kiss as he slung his arms around Dean’s neck. 

Dean pulled him closer until their bodies were flush and Castiel smiled when his lover buried his face into his neck and moved against him in time with the music. Castiel relaxed for the first time that evening and allowed Dean to control their dancing. 

There were too many bodies crammed into the dark club and people kept bumping into them or trying to squeeze past them as they ventured to different areas of the club. There was an off-putting stench of sweat and alcohol clouding the dancefloor and there were far too many drunk people yelling over the music, but Cas found he didn’t care about any of that. Even when his shoes stuck to a patch of floor, where someone had obviously spilled their drink earlier, Cas found himself wholly focused on Dean and the spicy cologne he was wearing and how soft his hair felt against his skin. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the strength of Dean’s arms and the gentleness of his movements and the light pepper of kisses over his neck.

The end of one song faded into another and Cas barely had time to feel Dean’s smirk against his skin before he was being twirled around the dancefloor to the beat of _Pitbull’s ‘Timber’._

Castiel huffed out a surprised laugh as Dean dipped him and quickly drew him upright again, swinging him around the floor and leading him into another twirl. Then Dean guided him into a quick two-step, halving their speed every few beats so it looked as though they were dancing in slow motion and Castiel laughed again as Dean dipped him lower this time, until he was nearly sprawled over the floor.

They broke into a two-step again and Cas barely noticed the dancefloor beginning to clear for them because he was too focused on Dean’s bright grin and cheeky wink as he was led into another twirl. He hadn’t realised Dean was such a fantastic country dancer. 

As he twirled, Dean copied him and then took his hands again and glided across the floor, slowing their steps for a moment before speeding up again and Cas yelped in surprise when Dean suddenly hoisted him into the air. Cas hooked his legs around Dean’s hips automatically as Dean supported his back and dipped him again and it was then that Castiel noticed the other students had formed a ring around them, cheering and clapping for their impromptu dance.

When Cas’ feet were firmly on the ground again, Dean swung them both around the circle and when Cas next blinked, Dean had stolen someone’s cowboy hat. It looked ridiculous and was clearly part of a fancy-dress costume but Dean merely grinned and yanked him into another two-step.

When the song came to an end, Dean hoisted Castiel onto his hips and dipped him one last time until his head was an inch from the floor and the crowd erupted into cheers, drowning out the start of the next song. Someone moodily swiped the hat from Dean’s head as the crowd began to filter onto the dancefloor and Dean huffed out a laugh as he pulled Castiel upright again.

Before Dean got a chance to open his mouth, Castiel crushed their lips together, the adrenaline from their dancing not quite drained from him and Dean staggered backwards slightly, caught off-guard. When Cas pulled away though, they were both grinning.

“How did you… where did you…?” Castiel panted, unable to finish either sentence.

Dean chuckled and tugged him closer when some drunken woman began rubbing her rear against Cas’.

“I didn’t just learn pole dancing, y’know,” he teased and Cas’ eyes darkened at the reminder of Dean’s other hidden talent. Dean licked his lips at the hungry gaze. “Cas, not for nothing but the last person who looked at me like that… I got laid,” he smirked.

Castiel cocked an eyebrow. “The last person who looked at you like this was me.”

Dean wiggled his eyebrows.

Castiel pressed their lips together once more and Dean wrapped his arms around him tightly, flicking at the woman who kept trying to rub up against his boyfriend. Castiel bit back a laugh.

“Never took you for a hillbilly,” drawled a familiar voice and the pair turned to find Meg cocking an eyebrow at Dean, Gadreel, Hannah and Balthazar behind her.

Dean let his hand rest on Cas’ hip as he offered the four a small smile and a shrug. “I’ll never make it to _America's Got Talent_ , but I can swing Cas around a sticky club floor.”

Meg tilted her head in contemplation and Cas caught Balthazar drop his gaze, a tiny frown on his face.

“And I can work a pole,” smirked Dean, making everyone stare at him in shock.

“Bull,” stated Meg. “You’re making that up.”

Dean shook his head with an amused grin. “I’d prove it to you, but you can’t afford me,” he teased.

“I’ll give you five dollars to jump on that stage over there and hurl yourself around that pole,” said Meg.

“I’ll give you ten if you dance the entirety of the next song,” chirped Hannah, making Gadreel’s eyes widen. She snickered when he stared at her.

“Fifteen if you take your shirt off,” smirked Meg.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Do you really think Dean will strip in front of the entire club just because you offer him a few dollars?”

“Done,” said Dean.

Castiel’s head whipped around as Dean strolled over to the stage beside the DJ’s booth.

Meg and Hannah whistled and cheered, pushing their way to the front of the stage just as Flo Rida’s ‘Low’ started up. Gadreel followed them in exasperation and Castiel was left with Balthazar, who wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. Castiel sighed and made his way over to the stage, but a smile soon crawled over his face when Dean winked at him and began rolling his hips in time with the music as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

One by one, people stopped dancing in order to watch Dean strip and Castiel began to laugh. He’d always known Dean was confident in his looks but there was a playfulness to him now that Cas hadn’t seen before. He’d always seen Dean’s confidence in his body as arrogance, but watching him now, he realised he’d been wrong. Dean could poke fun at himself and look good whilst doing so.

He dropped low in time with the chorus, legs apart as he winked at Castiel and then he grasped the pole and swung around it once, evoking an eruption of cheers. His shirt hung open as he gripped the pole with both hands and ground against it with a smirk, never taking his eyes off Castiel. The crowd whistled and clapped, shouting for more, but Cas was silent as he took Dean in – the muscles in his chest, the flex of his arms, the teasing glint in his eyes… Castiel could feel heat pooling within him.

Dean pulled away from the pole for a moment to drop to the floor again, licking his lips as he did so just to encourage another round of cheers, then he kicked his shoes off and leapt at the pole, crawling up it using only his arms. He twisted his hips and flipped over, losing contact with the pole for a fraction of the second until he could hang forwards from it and face the crowd. He smirked at Cas’ wide eyes and threw his legs upwards until his thighs were wrapped around the pole and he was facing the floor. He let his thighs support his weight as his hands released the pole and he arched his back in a way that displayed all of his abdominal muscles.

Castiel noticed a few women watching his boyfriend predatorily and he tried to ignore them.

Dean slipped down the pole a good couple of feet and in that time, managed to uncurl one leg from the pole and wrap his fingers around it. He rotated three-hundred and sixty degrees before beginning the next move, which saw him hanging upside down with only his thighs keeping him up. He slowly pulled himself up with his back muscles alone as he slid his hand down his chest to his jeans and when the crowed howled in appreciation, some women practically salivating over him, Dean took his shirt off and tossed it at Cas with a grin.

Castiel smirked smugly when the women glanced at him, a little disappointed that they weren’t holding the shirt.

Dean slid to the floor, still holding the pole with one hand as he arched backwards, thrusting into the air. Then he swung around the pole once more and dropped into the splits. Castiel wondered how he could do that in jeans.

People cheered and wolf-whistled and Dean chuckled and stood with his back to the pole. Then he flipped backwards and wrapped his legs around it, immediately taking his hands off it and trusting his abdominal muscles to keep him practically levitating above the floor. He let his legs fall over his head and he bounced onto the floor again, hands above his head as they wrapped around the pole. He rubbed himself against the cool metal as he slid down it and when a few people cat-called him, he chuckled and faced the pole, humping it a couple of times just to make people laugh.

He danced around the pole for a few more moments before turning to Cas and holding his hand out.

Castiel could see how put-out the women were at not being asked to join Dean, and he took some satisfaction in that, but the truth was that he wasn’t a pole dancer and he found himself shaking his head embarrassedly as he held his hands up. He liked to think he knew how to have fun, but he now realised how reserved he was in comparison to Dean. He didn’t have the same confidence in himself that Dean had.

Dean’s gaze softened. “C’mon on, Cas,” he mouthed, voice lost in the cheers around them.

Cas shook his head shyly. He didn’t know how to work a pole and he would only make a fool of himself. Besides, the crowd wanted Dean.

Dean edged forwards, hand still outstretched. “Please,” he mouthed hopefully, but Castiel shook his head with an embarrassed smile. He’d much rather watch his boyfriend.

Dean sagged a little but he was still smiling so Cas hoped he wasn’t too upset at the rejection.

Dean stood with a little shrug and returned to the pole, swinging around it again to get the crowd going. He faced the metal to begin his next move, when suddenly, someone jumped onto stage with him and pressed against him. He smirked, thinking Cas had finally mustered up the courage to join him, but a glance back to where Cas had been standing showed a confused Castiel staring back at him, a small frown creasing his brows.

The body behind Dean pressed closer, hands gripping his hips and Dean stiffened when the stranger began grinding against his ass.

Dean whirled around to find another guy with black hair and broad shoulders leering at him, his friends jeering from the side of the stage. The guy turned to the audience and took his shirt off to more cheers and applause and Dean backed up a little, suddenly uncomfortable where things were heading. The guy suddenly grabbed him again, tugging him closer as he ground against Dean’s crotch and Dean pulled a face at the stranger touching his bare skin. He tried to push away but the man began humping his thigh, one hand trailing over Dean’s chest suggestively.

Nobody seemed to recognise that Dean was uncomfortable as they shouted for more and Dean stiffened as the stranger slid behind him and began humping his ass, hands sliding over his bare chest and stomach.

Dean could smell the alcohol on the other man’s breath and he scrunched his nose, trying to pull away again, but the stranger kept a tight grip on him, thrusting against him harshly enough to make Dean’s hips jerk. Dean flicked his gaze to Cas helplessly and was surprised at the anger bleeding through his lover’s expression. He gasped when the stranger groped his crotch, groaning obscenely as he rubbed his palm against Dean. Dean pulled a disgusted face at the feeling of the stranger’s stiff length grinding against his ass.

Dean shoved at him harshly. “Get off me,” he growled, to the confusion of the audience who had assumed the man was one of Dean’s friends.

When Dean tried to step down from the stage though, the stranger dragged him back and herded him towards the pole. Dean narrowed his eyes as the guy ground on him again, but before he could elbow him, one of the man’s friends came to join them and suddenly, Dean found himself trapped between a pole and two strong guys who seemed intent on humping him. Their hands roamed over his bare arms, chest and back and Dean stiffened as the new guy rutted against his crotch. He could feel their erections pressing into him and he swallowed when the new guy began to unbutton his shirt. The crowd seemed to be back onboard with the idea that these were Dean’s friends as they began to cheer and whistle again, some people throwing dollar bills at them.

The two men laughed and roughened their thrusts and Dean winced when his thigh was slammed into the pole. The final straw came when the guy behind him slipped a hand into the front of his jeans. But it wasn’t Dean who hurled the guy off him.

The pressure on his back was released and Dean quickly pulled away from the stranger in front of him, but the pressure returned pretty quickly and hands slid around his stomach. The grinding didn’t recommence though and Dean swore the person behind him had a shirt on, so he twisted his head to find a furious blue gaze staring back.

Dean grinned as Cas’ arms tightened around him possessively.

His own hands came to rest on Cas’ hips and he arched backwards, rubbing himself against Cas pointedly. Castiel quickly got the message and rolled his hips against Dean’s ass as his boyfriend danced against him, dropping to the floor, drawing himself upright and twirling around so they were facing one another. Dean claimed his boyfriend’s lips in a show of possession as the two strangers scowled at them from the back of the stage. 

“Getting a little jealous?” Dean purred into his lover’s ear.

Cas gripped his hips tighter but said nothing and Dean grinned and slung his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.

“Follow my lead,” he whispered, slowly guiding Cas to the pole and kissing his cheek when his lover’s expression turned nervous.

“Dean, I can’t- ”

“Shoes off and relax,” murmured Dean, placing Cas’ hands on the pole. _‘Despacito’_ hummed through the sound system.

Once Cas had reluctantly kicked his shoes off, Dean slid in behind him, his own fingers curling around the cool metal and Cas felt his cheeks flaming with embarrassment. He knew he was going to make a fool of himself.

Dean kissed his shoulder tenderly and bent his knees into the back of Cas’ so his boyfriend fell into him, still grasping the pole.

“Think of it like a slow dance,” Dean whispered, one hand falling to Cas’ stomach. “The pole is your partner.”

Dean rolled his body upright again, forcing Cas with him, before slowly dropping into a twirl around the pole. Cas stiffened at the change in weight, but then Dean leaned into him and he relaxed again, allowing his lover to teach him. He had always assumed the dancer moved around the pole but now he could feel that it was actually the pole that twisted.

Dean’s strong arms were framing him and the more Dean moved against him, the more relaxed Castiel grew. He followed Dean’s simple movements; hip rolls and drops and gentle twirls becoming easier with each practice. It wasn’t long before Dean began crawling up the pole, legs wrapped around Cas’ so he could pull them up together. Then, when they were a good few feet up the pole, Dean tightened his grip on Castiel’s stomach and a gasp escaped Cas as he was yanked into the air, entire weight resting on Dean’s body. Both of Dean’s arms were connected to the pole, holding them up and squishing them together and the crowd below cheered at Dean’s sheer strength.

“Hands on the pole,” Dean grunted a little breathlessly and Cas rushed to comply. “I’m going to drop but you’re going to hold on a little longer until I say to slide down, got it?”

Cas panicked for a moment but nodded. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold himself up for and he didn’t want to fall at this height. 

Suddenly, Dean fell away and Cas gripped the pole tighter, twirling gently from the momentum Dean had just exerted onto it.

“Okay, drop,” said Dean and Cas loosened his grip and soon found himself suspended in Dean’s arms, cradled like a baby.

There was a cheer from the crowd and Dean grinned brilliantly at him. Cas huffed out a shaky laugh.

Dean helped him upright and they slipped on their shoes and jumped off stage together to the disappointment of the crowd. Castiel’s heart was racing and as Dean smiled at him and led them towards the bar, he wasn’t convinced it was merely due to the dancing.

“I’m impressed,” Dean hummed as they queued. “Wasn’t sure you’d join me. You looked pretty nervous.”

“And you looked pretty uncomfortable with those assbutts grinding on you,” huffed Castiel, making Dean laugh.

“If that’s the reaction I’m gonna get out of you, I’m gonna have to get more strangers to grind on me,” teased Dean.

Castiel narrowed his eyes and pressed closer. “I thought I’d made it pretty clear who you belong to, Dean.”

Dean’s gaze sparkled with interest. “I think I need another reminder.”

Castiel palmed Dean’s ass as they moved along the bar and Dean grinned and curled an arm around his waist.

“I’m beginning to develop a kink for you marking your territory,” purred Dean, nipping Castiel’s jaw just to rile him up. 

“How about tonight you come back to my house and I’ll indulge you in your kink?” Cas murmured, nuzzling Dean’s cheek.

“I like the sound of that,” breathed Dean.

They arrived at the bar and Dean ordered them a couple of beers to cool down with. They got comfortable at a table in a fairly empty corner of the club where the music wasn’t so loud. Dean didn’t even try to hide his desire to hold Cas’ hand.

Cas’ heart beat a little faster as Dean’s thumb rubbed his knuckles. 

Had he really just pole-danced with Dean? Had he really just ground against Dean in front of so many people? Kissed him in front of an audience merely to prove that they were dating? Had he and Dean twirled around the dance floor and groped each other on-stage because Cas had grown jealous over someone touching his lover? Since when did he even get jealous?

Twenty-five dollars appeared on their table and Dean and Cas turned to find Hannah and Meg staring at them with faintly impressed expressions. Gadreel stood behind them, looking red-cheeked and mildly shocked and Balthazar stood behind him looking… lost.

Dean chuckled and slid the money back to the women. “Keep it. I didn’t do it for the money.”

“No,” protested Meg. “You won the bet, so keep it.”

Oddly, Dean flinched and pushed the money even further away.

“It wasn’t a bet. I got Cas on-stage – that’s a prize in itself.”

Hannah tilted her head and pushed the money back. “You earned it, Dean. Take the money.”

Still, Dean didn’t touch the cash, so Meg and Hannah slowly pocketed it. Cas was confused at Dean’s reaction but he was pleased his lover wasn’t interested in the money. It further proved how much Dean had changed.

“I’m still a little stunned you can move like that to be honest,” hummed Meg and Dean finally allowed himself a small smile as he wrapped an arm around Cas’ shoulders.

“Cas is the real dancer, not me. You want to see him ballroom.”

“You just contorted yourself around a pole and you’re claiming that you’re not a dancer?” Asked Castiel incredulously.

Dean shrugged. “It’s hardly dancing.”

“Well, whatever it is it’s impressive and I can’t do it,” said Hannah. 

“You told me you weren’t that experienced,” accused Castiel and Dean grinned.

“I’m not. There’s a lot of stuff I can’t do.”

“You should take it up again,” Meg said. “You’re really good.”

Dean perked up a little, surprised at the praise. He knew he wasn’t exactly in Cas’ friends’ good books.

“You think so?”

“I had to physically restrain Hannah from jumping you on-stage,” Gadreel said drily, earning himself a thump and a dirty look from his girlfriend.

“I think you would have had to fight Cas off first,” teased Meg. Castiel ducked his head embarrassedly.

“True. You looked as though you were enjoying yourself up there, Castiel,” smirked Gadreel.

Castiel’s cheeks burned and Dean tucked him into his side.

“I don’t know about Cas, but I certainly enjoyed watching him scare off another guy over me.”

Castiel buried his face into Dean’s neck. He would never live this down.

Dean stroked his back comfortingly. “I think we’ve shamed him enough. He deserves some praise for getting up there. It was his first time and he was nervous.”

“You did well, Cas,” said Hannah reassuringly. “We’re only teasing. And that dancing you guys did earlier was amazing!”

Castiel slowly sat upright again as his friends joined their table. They chatted about the dancing and the drunken guys who groped Dean and Castiel noticed Balthazar was silent throughout. He refused to let it bother him – if Balthazar wanted to be awkward then Castiel wouldn’t indulge him.

Half an hour later, they slipped back onto the dancefloor and Castiel thoroughly enjoyed having Dean’s full attention. At some point they tried to find Dean’s shirt, but gave it up as a lost cause after a while. An hour later, Balthazar excused himself to go to the bathroom.

He didn’t return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are still enjoying this! I'm certainly enjoying your comments :)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for brief homophobic slur

The holidays came upon everyone quicker than they had anticipated and Dean soon found himself promising to visit his boyfriend at some point over Christmas. He had been a little nervous about the whole trip because not only would he have to fly from Kansas to California (something he was genuinely terrified of), he would also be in the company of Cas’ step-father, whom Dean wasn’t certain knew about Cas’ bisexuality. Still, if it meant spending time with Cas over Christmas, Dean could tolerate a few homophobic comments.

Surprisingly, Zachariah was actually very accepting of his step-son’s sexuality and hadn’t so much as raised an eyebrow when Castiel introduced Dean as his boyfriend. Dean didn’t know what he had been expecting, but to slide so smoothly into the Novak household wasn’t on the list. He and Cas had exchanged gifts; Castiel buying him a collection of hard rock vinyls he’d been eying up for weeks and him buying Cas an electronic sheet music tablet so he wouldn’t have to keep carrying a thick music pad around with him. Cas’ eyes had bulged and he’d protested that Dean had spent far too much money, but Dean had merely shrugged and stated that he knew Cas would use it, so it was money well-spent. Zachariah seemed to approve anyway, especially when Dean offered him some very fine brandy he’d brought as a kind of peace-offering for being Cas’ boyfriend.

The next few days consisted of him and Cas singing off-key to overplayed Christmas songs, eating more than they should, comparing snowless California to chilly Kansas whilst strolling around the local park, drinking far too much eggnog, watching well-loved Christmas movies with boxes of chocolate scattered around them, and lots of sex. It was an awesome Christmas. Dean returned to Kansas a couple of days after New Years and he felt happier than he’d been in a long time (despite the flight). 

Sam’s Christmas had been different but no less enjoyed. He had spent Christmas day and boxing day with his brother and lover and when Dean had flown out to California a couple of days after boxing day, Sam and Gabriel had spent their next few days having snowball fights, baking gingerbread houses, cuddling under fluffy blankets with hot chocolates, a cheesy movie and some candy, playing boardgames and of course, desecrating every room in the house with kinky games since Dean wasn’t there to gripe about it. 

They had decorated the house with Dean a couple of weeks before Christmas day and all three of them had exchanged gifts on the 25th. Gabriel had been embarrassed at his lack of funding and limited ability to buy the brothers something more expensive to show his appreciation for inviting him into their home and being the family he’d never had, but Dean had insisted that the delicious, artisan pies he’d baked were the perfect present, and Sam was enamoured with the ornate, golden feathered quill that Gabriel had wrapped up for him. Similarly, Gabriel had laughed at the huge hamper of sweets and chocolates Dean had presented him with and then fell in love with the gold-buttoned chef’s uniform Sam bought him. It was his first uniform, complete with a toque, and Gabriel knew he’d keep it forever.

Gabe almost cried when both Winchesters handed him a key to their suite. They’d informed him that it was his home too and honestly, he hadn’t known what to say to that, so he’d yanked them both into a hug and whispered his heartfelt thanks.

When the holidays came to an end and everyone was a little chubbier, Sam, Dean, Cas and Gabe agreed to go for a meal back in California to round Christmas off. It was fun and light-hearted and Sam and Dean genuinely couldn’t remember the last time they’d smiled so much during the holidays.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and in no time at all, February was nearly over and people began to study that little bit harder for their upcoming exams.

“What’s the difference between dark brown sugar and muscovado?” Asked Sam, glancing to his lover’s notebook of past-exam questions.

Gabriel gripped the bed sheets tighter, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Sam,” he choked.

Sam’s hips stilled abruptly and Gabriel whined as he was left feeling empty and unsatisfied.

“Difference between dark brown sugar and muscovado,” Sam repeated calmly, fingers curled around his lover’s hips.

Gabriel wriggled a little, trying to encourage Sam to recommence his thrusting but Sam leaned further backwards, making Gabriel whimper desperately.

“Answer the question, Gabe,” hummed Sam, thoroughly enjoying his lover’s neediness.

“Uh… brown sugar and muscovado,” panted Gabriel, racking his pleasure-clouded mind for yet another exam answer. He’d lost count of how many questions Sam had asked him so far. “Muscovado has strong molasses content and higher water content.”

There was a pause as Sam flicked his gaze to Gabriel’s notebook; resting beside them on the bed.

“Full marks,” smirked Sam before slamming into Gabriel again.

Gabriel let his head fall onto the mattress, groaning filthily as Sam pushed in and out of him. A hand reached around to his straining erection and Gabriel moaned even louder as Sam pumped him roughly.

“Which organs in the chicken are attached to the spine and therefore aren’t usually removed in store-bought birds?” Sam hummed, stilling his hips once more.

Gabriel whimpered again, wishing Sam would stop asking him questions and get on with screwing his brains out.

“…Kidneys,” he breathed, leaning backwards just so he could feel Sam’s dick brush his hole.

“Well done,” said Sam after a few seconds and Gabriel sighed in relief as Sam flipped him onto his back and claimed his mouth hungrily before shoving into him again.

“Are we finished with the questions now?” Gabriel panted, hooking his legs around Sam’s hips.

Sam chuckled and nodded. “Fifteen out of seventeen. Not bad.”

Gabriel slid his fingers into Sam’s hair and dragged him down for another messy kiss. “I want my prize,” he growled into Sam’s mouth.

Sam raised an eyebrow before snapping his hips forwards and hitting Gabriel’s prostate. Gabriel gasped, arching off the bed as his free hand clawed at Sam’s back desperately. Sam smirked and captured Gabe’s lips again, thrusting into the same spot over and over, each thrust harder than the last. His tongue pressed into Gabriel’s mouth, sliding against his lover’s hotly as Gabriel clutched at him, thighs squeezing his hips.

Gabriel tried to reach down to jerk his own length in time with his lover’s thrusts, but Sam caught his wrist and pinned it above his head, leaving Gabriel’s other hand to splay over Sam’s back possessively as he arched upwards in a plea for more.

Hot skin slid together, pants and broken groans breaking up the silence of the room. Then Sam gave one final rough push and Gabriel’s whole body tensed beneath him and suddenly the tightness around Sam’s dick was too delicious to keep holding on. Sam rolled onto his side, pulling Gabriel with him and for a blissful moment, neither of them moved as they clung to one another.

A couple of minutes later, Gabriel huffed out a breathless laugh.

“I think I’ve found my favourite revision technique.”

Sam grinned and nuzzled into his lover’s hair, kissing it adoringly.

“Next time, you can test me,” he teased and Gabriel’s eyes lit up with interest.

Sam closed his eyes and smiled when Gabriel stroked his back. “Only problem is, I’m not going to be able to sit my exams now without thinking of your gorgeous dick,” Gabe whispered. 

“Wait until we get around to practicing for your practical exams,” grinned Sam.

Gabriel chuckled and kissed his chest. “You’d better not make me horny over chopped carrots and tomatoes.”

Sam rolled his hips lazily and Gabriel whined at how sensitive everything was.

“I was thinking I could finger you as you prepare a huge chunk of meat,” murmured Sam.

Gabriel snickered. “Choke me with the spaghetti?”

Sam bit back a laugh. “Gag you with a turnip.”

“Spank me with the celery.”

Sam snorted and carefully pulled out of his lover before holding Gabriel closer. He loved their time together. Loved having Gabriel in his arms like this.

“I’d never be able to cook in public again,” said Gabriel, a smile lighting his face as he brushed his knuckles over Sam’s spine.

“Pity,” whispered Sam. “I was looking forwards to covering myself in Nutella and watching you lick it off.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you not to play with your food?” Asked Gabriel, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sam grinned and curled around him again, nuzzling his hair happily. Today had been amazing.

Gabriel’s phone blasted out the _Star Wars ‘Imperial March’._

Scowling, Gabriel pulled away from Sam and glowered at his phone until it shut off. Curious, Sam tilted his head and trailed his fingers over Gabe’s side in silent question. Gabriel shook his head and cuddled back into him, so Sam shrugged and combed his fingers through his lover’s hair.

Gabriel’s phone buzzed.

Growling quietly, Gabriel snatched the phone from the bedside table and unlocked it, scanning through the new message. His gaze grew darker the more he read and by the time he reached the end, his fists were clenched and his mouth was a thin line.

“Gabe?” Asked Sam worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

Gabriel handed him the phone silently.

Sam’s brow furrowed as he read the sender’s name and message and when he made it to the end, he understood Gabriel’s anger.

“Is he serious?” 

Gabriel threw the phone onto the table again and scoffed. “Unfortunately, yes. They do this every year.”

“Why?” Asked Sam angrily. “I thought your family didn’t want anything to do with you?”

Gabriel shook his head. “They don’t. Michael and Lucifer just think it’s fun to rub it in my face that mother and father paid for their college education and now they have steady, well-paying jobs and their own oversized houses because they work at father’s firm and they could never do a thing wrong in his eyes.” Gabriel scowled at his own hands. “They’ve been visiting me every year since I got kicked out of the house at sixteen. Y’know, they even made a point of telling me how great mother’s cooking was when I was living on the streets. Never invited me back to the house, just came to tell me what they were having for dinner.”

Sam clenched his fists furiously before gathering his lover into his arms and smoothing a hand over that soft skin he loved so much.

“Were they dropped at birth? They sound like psychopaths.”

Gabriel snorted. “They learned everything they know from our parents. They just took it ten steps further. I get the same insults every year, the same ridiculing, the same smug and disgusted looks. That’s what I get for being their _‘pea-brained, flea-bitten, little faggot brother’_ ,” he said bitterly, referencing Lucifer’s text. _“‘The biggest disappointment of the family’.”_

Sam growled quietly and tugged Gabriel closer, kissing his head. “Your parents know they do this to you every year?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Probably. It wouldn’t matter if they did. They think the sun shines out of my brothers’ asses, despite all the fighting and yelling that ruined pretty much every meal. As long as my brothers like girls and follow the family business, my parents will always love them.”

“Your family sucks,” grumbled Sam.

Gabriel snorted. “Tell me about it.”

Sam traced his fingers over Gabriel’s chest, admiring the muscles beneath his warm skin. “If your brothers do come over, introduce me to them so I can punch them in the face.”

Gabriel chuckled at that and pulled Sam in for a tender kiss. “This year will be different,” he murmured. “This year I’ll be able to look at you and think my life is pretty great.”

Sam’s gaze softened and he stole another kiss. “I’ll still get to punch them in the face though, right?”

Gabriel laughed and Sam grinned and pinned him to the mattress, claiming his mouth hotly. When he pulled away, Gabriel was gazing at him hungrily.

“I could always just screw you in front of them,” Sam winked. “Think that’ll get them to leave you alone?”

Gabriel grinned at the mental image of his brother’s utter horror and disgust at walking in on him and Sam.

“Only if it’s whilst I’m chopping carrots and tomatoes,” teased Gabriel.

“Thought we were saving that for your revision?” Smirked Sam.

“No, that’s what the celery and turnip is for.”

Sam nuzzled his neck and pressed his lips to his throat. “They’re going to be in for a shock when they find out you live in a penthouse suite with your hot, young boyfriend and your butler, Dean.”

Gabriel barked out a laugh. “Can’t he be a maid? I think the uniform would suit him.”

Sam grinned. “You’d owe him his bodyweight in home-baked pies.”

Gabriel snickered but sobered after a few moments and cupped Sam’s cheek with a warm gaze. “Boyfriend?” He asked hopefully.

Sam realised they’d never called each other that before.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Of course you’re my boyfriend, Gabe.”

Gabriel’s expression brightened with joy and he kissed Sam tenderly.

“About time,” he teased. “It’s only been three months.”

Sam nuzzled his cheek. “Sorry,” he smiled. “I just assumed that’s what we already were. I guess I just never mentioned it.”

Gabriel closed his eyes as Sam peppered kisses over his cheek and neck.

“Promise you’ll come to me if your idiot brothers say something to hurt you?” Whispered Sam. “Promise you won’t try to deal with them alone?”

Gabriel pulled a face. “You don’t want to meet them, Sam. I don’t want to drag you into my family drama.”

Sam frowned. “I wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend if I stood around and let them insult you. We’re in this together, yeah? We’re supposed to look out for one another and be there when we need each other. I’m not letting you get bullied by your psycho brothers.”

A smile slowly spread across Gabriel’s face and he combed his fingers through Sam’s hair. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

Sam chuckled and nuzzled into Gabe’s neck again. They rolled onto their sides and held each other for a little while before Sam decided the stickiness between them needed to be cleaned. He grabbed a cloth from the bathroom and cleaned himself up quickly before returning to the bedroom and perching Gabriel in his lap. As Sam carefully cleaned Gabriel’s skin, he kissed his shoulder gently.

“I’m proud of you, Gabe. No matter what your family thinks,” he whispered.

Gabriel tangled his fingers with Sam’s and a comfortable quiet fell between them.

 

* * *

 

“So, we go into this really weird New-age restaurant in some back alley. The decorations are kinda weird and the whole room is… dark. I’m already getting weird vibes off the place and the menu looks more like an organ donor list, but Cas just slips the menu out of my hands and tells me: _‘Don’t worry, I’ve got this.’_ So, the waiter comes over and Cas says _‘Get us two of your least ordered item on the menu.’_ ” 

Castiel was red-faced beside Dean, eyes glued to the table as Meg, Gadreel and Hannah hung onto Dean’s every word, their faces bright with amusement and anticipation.

Dean grinned, casting his gaze over to his boyfriend. “We wait maybe ten minutes and the waiter returns with our meals. We get sweetbreads, which the waiter happily explains is little rolled up balls of pancreas, and to garnish, we have calf brains.”

Dean pulled a sarcastically joyful face and the others burst into laughter. Even Balthazar snickered a little, gaze glued to his work.

Castiel’s cheeks burned as Dean slung an arm around him. “Which is why I’m never letting Cas choose a restaurant ever again. Isn’t that right, Angel?” Smirked Dean.

Castiel elbowed him half-heartedly, making everyone chuckle.

“Do you guys ever have a date where something doesn’t go horribly wrong?” Asked Meg.

“Nope. Makes our relationship ten times more interesting,” winked Dean.

“It would be nice to just have a normal date with you,” grumbled Cas, poking at his salad. “One where one of us doesn’t get injured, sexually harassed or food poisoned.”

Hannah frowned. “Have you been harassed since the club incident?”

Castiel sidled closer to his lover. “Dean has. Apparently, past flings won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” A scowl creased his brows and Dean gently tangled their fingers together in a silent offer of comfort.

Balthazar glanced up from his work but said nothing. He had been quiet since returning to University after the holidays, but he still sat with them during free periods and his jabs at Dean had slowly decreased over the past few weeks, meaning he didn’t get into as many heated arguments with Castiel either.

“How so?” Asked Gadreel curiously.

Dean shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. They’ll get the hint eventually.”

“It does matter,” growled Cas. “No one has the right to touch you without your consent. They don’t get to grope you on the playing field and they certainly don’t get to hit you when you tell them you’re not interested.”

Hannah straightened, eyes wide. “They hit you?” She asked incredulously.

Gadreel scrunched up his nose. “They grope you during class? Have you told anyone? Lecturers? Student support?”

Dean shook his head. “Like I said, they’ll get the hint eventually. I mean… the whole college knows Cas and I are a thing. It’s not like we got a chance to hide it.” Dean glanced to his lover and lowered his voice to a soft murmur. “Not that I’d want to hide it.”

Castiel offered him a tiny, affectionate smile. 

Balthazar slowly lowered his gaze.

“Still, straight up hitting you is just plain assault,” frowned Hannah. “You should probably tell someone about that.”

“Yes,” agreed Cas with a stern look in Dean’s direction. “Like my father.”

All of Castiel’s friends did a double-take, their eyes bulging.

“Hold up,” interrupted Meg before Dean could reply. She pointed an accusing finger at Castiel. “Did you just refer to Zachariah as your _father?_ Not ‘step-father’ or ‘Zachariah’, just… ‘father’?”

Castiel shifted awkwardly. “…Well… he was the one to raise me.”

“Since when did that matter to you?” Insisted Meg. “I thought you didn’t like the guy?”

Castiel frowned. “We butt heads sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like him. He didn’t want me to become a journalist because he doesn’t like the press – for good reason – but that doesn’t mean he’s been cruel or wicked to me. He’s always been tolerant of everything I’ve said to him and he’s always done his best to give me a good life despite the insults I’ve thrown at him. He loved Mom and he always provided for us both, even when I probably didn’t deserve it. When Mom died, he still took care of me as if I was his own, even though I told him on countless occasions how much I hated him. He’s a good father. It just took me a while to realise that.”

The others stared, stunned, but Dean smiled lightly, a hint of pride in his gaze that made Castiel want to kiss him.

Meg turned to Dean. “How? How did you do it?”

Dean shrugged innocently. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hannah’s eyes brightened. “You spent Christmas with them! You got them to talk, didn’t you?”

A smile pulled at the corners of Dean’s lips. “Cas just did what he thought was right.”

A fond smile swept over Castiel’s face as he gazed at Dean, who was failing miserably at lying to their friends.

Meg slapped Dean’s hand. “I can’t believe it! You actually got Cas to sit down and talk to Zach. It’s a freaking Christmas miracle!”

Dean chuckled as Cas rolled his eyes. “Alright, it’s not that big of a deal,” huffed Cas. “Weren’t we supposed to be focusing on Dean’s harassment?”

A hand snaked around Cas’ waist, a thumb riding underneath his shirt and stroking gently at the soft skin of his waist. Castiel relaxed into Dean’s side.

Suddenly, Balthazar stood. “Excuse me,” he said quietly. “I need to use the bathroom.”

He slipped away into the crowd, leaving the others to stare after him concernedly. It was strange seeing the man so soft-spoken and introverted. None of them liked it.

Dean squeezed Castiel’s hip and nodded in the direction Balthazar had wandered. Castiel shot him a grateful smile before excusing himself from the table and disappearing into the crowd.

He weaved through students and tables before finally reaching one of the quieter bathrooms. It led off from the far corner of the dining hall and you had to walk through a long, narrow corridor to get to it and for that reason, many people chose to use the toilets that were closer to the dining hall. Castiel knew Balthazar hated using the toilet when other students were queueing just outside the door, which is why he had a feeling his friend would go to the usually empty bathroom.

He pushed into the men’s room, glancing around the empty stalls and locating the only one that was engaged. It was a rather large bathroom so he leaned against one of the sinks and waited for Balthazar to resurface. A couple of moments later, he did, but his eyes were glued to the floor and he didn’t immediately recognise Cas as he washed his hands. It was only when he had to activate the drier did he finally look up and notice he wasn’t alone. He blinked in surprise and took a step backwards, tilting his head in query.

“Hello?”

“We need to talk,” Castiel said softly.

Balthazar immediately tensed, gaze flicking towards the door and when he looked ready to bolt, Cas took a step forwards, blocking his path.

“Balthazar… please don’t make this difficult.”

Balthazar seemed to stiffen further but the look he gave Castiel was one full of hurt. “Don’t,” he begged, voice practically a whimper and Castiel sagged at the realisation of how far apart he and his supposed best friend had drifted. They needed to fix things between them before it was too late.

“We… we need to talk about this,” murmured Castiel, gesturing between them. “This has gone on for far too long.”

Balthazar looked broken. “Please, Cassie,” he whispered. “Don’t do this. I can’t…”

Castiel shook his head. “Balthazar, we _have_ to talk,” he insisted. They couldn’t keep avoiding one another. 

“I can’t lose you,” blurted Balthazar desperately, making Castiel frown in confusion. The action seemed to make the other man wilt even more. “Don’t cut me out of your life, Castiel, please. I don’t want to lose your friendship. I know I’ve been an ass, but I’m sorry. Please, please give me another chance. I’m sorry for what I said about Dean. I’m sorry for every time I’ve yelled at you or ignored you or tried to give you a hard time about choosing Dean. I’m sorry for hurting you and for acting like an asshole and being so selfish that it has put a strain on our friendship. I’m sorry for snapping at Dean and mocking him and I’m sorry for trying to make you feel like crap just because you and Dean work so well together. I’m just sorry, Cassie. About everything. Please don’t leave me.”

Castiel’s eyes widened for a moment before he closed the distance between them in four strides and threw his arms around the teary-eyed Balthazar and dragged him in for a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re my best friend and you always will be,” Cas whispered beside the other man’s ear. “I’ll never leave you.”

Balthazar broke down, pressing his face into Castiel’s neck as he sobbed in relief. He clutched Cas’ back and Castiel held him tighter, ignoring the tears that prickled at his own eyes. He’d had no idea Balthazar thought he wanted to end their friendship.

They held each other for a couple of minutes; Castiel gently stroking Balthazar’s back as he waited for the other man’s tears to dry.

“We still need to talk,” murmured Castiel. “About the way you’ve been acting lately. And about your aversion to Dean.”

Balthazar sighed into Castiel’s neck, but didn’t pull away. “I’m an asshole. What more is there to talk about?”

Castiel cocked an eyebrow and Balthazar closed his eyes in resignation. 

“At first I was upset you’d slept with Dean,” Balthazar began softly. “Then you said you were dating and I… got angry. I’d told you about my dealings with Dean and yet you ignored me and pursued a relationship with him anyway, even though I’d explained how he plays around with people, gets bored, moves on and leaves his lovers with a broken heart. I thought you were being stubborn.” He sighed again and pulled away to look at Castiel.

“It wasn’t only that. I couldn’t understand why you’d choose him over me. After everything I’d told you about him, I… I was furious that you’d still prefer to pursue him rather than me. I was jealous and I lashed out at both you and Dean. I suppose I’m not entirely over my feelings for you and maybe I’ve not forgiven Dean as wholly as I first believed.”

He dropped his gaze at Cas’ pitying frown.

“But I can’t make you want me and whilst Dean did hurt me, you’re right. He’s different now and I should have given him a chance.”

A gentle, longing smile graced Balthazar’s expression as he glanced up at Castiel. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you; the way his face lights up when you’re near and the way he laughs around you. I’ve seen the way he touches you, like he can’t quite believe you’re his. I’ve seen the way he kisses you, like each one is better than the last. I’ve seen the way he smiles at you and the way he dances with you and the way he stands just a little taller when you enter the room. He’s never acted like that around anyone else. With everyone else, it’s all planned. Even with me. Every kiss, every touch, every smile, all of it, it was all planned to make it look like he was into me. But now I see that the only person he’s every truly been into is you.”

Castiel’s eyes were round and stunned and Balthazar’s smile widened that little extra.

“And I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve seen how you beam when he lays his eyes on you. I’ve seen the way you touch him as though you’re determined to keep him. I’ve seen the way you kiss him, like it’s the best part of your day. I’ve seen how you open up around him and let him see parts of you no one else has.”

When Castiel’s lips parted in shock, Balthazar chuckled. “I’ve seen you two stare at one another from opposite sides of a room and have an entire conversation without words. I’ve seen you put so much faith in Dean, that you were willing to climb a pole in front of over a hundred students, fall down and trust that he’d be there to catch you. I’ve seen you yank another guy off stage just to prove that Dean is yours and I watched him throw you around a dance floor and steal someone’s hat just to make you smile. He even helped you reconcile with your father – something I never thought to do whilst we were courting.”

Balthazar shook his head regretfully. “I can see a spark between you two that I never saw between us, even when we lived together. You’re like two whole new people when you’re around one another.” Balthazar’s gaze softened as he stared into wide, blue eyes. “You love him. And he loves you.”

Castiel straightened. “That’s… that’s not… we’re not… we’ve never…”

Balthazar chuckled. “You do and he does. I know what I see between you two. I’m happy you’ve found someone who makes you feel that way. Even happier you’ve found someone who reciprocates.”

Castiel’s jaw worked open and closed a few times before it finally snapped shut and he stood in the middle of the bathroom, staring at his friend.

“Want me to stop talking yet?” Winked Balthazar. 

Castiel suddenly pulled him into another hug and Balthazar melted into him, holding him close once more.

“I want you to be happy, Cassie,” whispered Balthazar. “And Dean makes you happy. I was an idiot to not realise it sooner.”

“Balthazar… I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you won’t mess it up.”

Castiel huffed out a laugh and let his head rest on his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll always love you, Zar, even if it’s not in the way you want.”

Balthazar squeezed him gently. “You and Dean make a cuter couple anyway.”

“You’ll find someone,” whispered Cas. “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Balthazar hummed contemplatively but said nothing more, so Cas grabbed his hand and slowly guided him out of the bathroom. Another student gave them an odd look as he entered.

“Is that why you’ve been quiet these past few weeks?” Asked Castiel as they walked through the corridor at a leisurely pace. “You were jealous?”

Balthazar shook his head. “I was quiet these past few weeks because I realised how much of an ass I’ve been. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Castiel grinned. “You have been a bit of an ass.”

“Ah… Merci, mon cher.”

Castiel laughed. If Balthazar was back to cramming French and English into the same sentence, things truly were back to normal.

They entered the dining hall together and as they approached their booth, everyone gave their linked hands a strange look. Everyone except Dean, who merely twitched his lips into a relieved smile.

Balthazar didn’t even need prompting as he fixed an ashamed gaze on Dean. “I’m not entirely sure how you still haven’t punched me.”

Dean grinned and Castiel shoved Balthazar into the booth next to his boyfriend. Balthazar’s eyebrows rocketed skywards, but he quickly relaxed again when Cas sat on his other side.

“It’s been a close call sometimes,” teased Dean. 

Balthazar ducked his head guiltily. “I’m sorry about that. Actually, I’m sorry about a lot of things I’ve said to you and about you. You’re a nice guy with the patience of a saint to put up with the crap I’ve given you. The short story is I was jealous that Cas chose you over me and I tried to make you suffer for it, which led to me realising how much of an idiotic asshole I am.”

Dean chuckled. “I won’t deny it. But to be fair, I was kind of a douche to you when we first met so…” He held his hand out. “Truce?”

Balthazar blinked, surprised at the easy forgiveness. “You’re not worried about me practically confessing to still being in love with your boyfriend?”

Dean shrugged. “You gonna act on it? You gonna force him to be with you?” He asked bluntly.

Balthazar shook his head quickly. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Dean smiled. “Exactly. You’re his best friend, man. I can’t ask him to suddenly cut you out of his life.”

“Well you could, but I’d ignore you and call you ‘overly-possessive’,” Cas drawled from beside them, returning to poking at his limp-looking salad.

Dean snorted and Balthazar felt a grin creeping across his face. 

“Well?” Asked Dean, hand still outstretched.

Balthazar shook it firmly.

“Truce,” he grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww ;)


	26. Chapter 26

February rolled into March and before anyone could blink, they were in the middle of the month and deadlines were approaching, making most students either hit the library or accept the fact that there were always resit opportunities later on in the year.

Gabriel was heading out of his last lecture of the day when it finally happened. It was Monday, further proving the superstition that all bad things happened at the beginning of the week, and Gabriel was juggling his cooking equipment and his freshly-made croissants. He wondered if Balthazar would appreciate one of the little French pastries and was just thinking about what he could cook for everyone on Friday’s movie night, when he spotted two familiar but very unwelcome faces.

They had obviously been waiting for him and Gabriel hoped it was just coincidence that they’d chosen four p.m. to linger outside the nutrition department, because he really didn’t like the idea that either of them knew his timetable.

For a moment, he considered pretending he hadn’t seen them, but he knew that wouldn’t work when they stood from the bench and began making their way over to him. He glanced around and wished Sam finished lectures at the same time he did. Sadly, the younger man wouldn’t be released for another hour.

“Gabriel,” greeted Michael, one eyebrow cocked as he looked down his nose at his little brother. “How have you been?”

“Never better,” Gabriel said with a sharp grin. “What brings you here?”

Lucifer smirked the same smug smirk Gabriel received every time his older brothers visited to ridicule him. “My shiny new Range Rover,” he replied casually, wiggling a set of car keys in front of Gabriel’s face. 

Gabriel shot him an unimpressed look and Lucifer chuckled and pocketed the keys again. “Do we need a reason to visit our favourite baby brother?” 

“I’m your only little brother and you always have a reason,” deadpanned Gabriel. “Usually, it’s to point and laugh at my life.” 

He felt his blood boiling when Michael merely smirked and Lucifer actually had the audacity to chortle at him. 

“Ever the pessimist, little bro,” hummed Lucifer, swiping the container of croissants from Gabriel’s arm. Gabriel bristled, trying to snatch the container back, but Lucifer had already opened it and Michael scrunched his nose at the contents.

“No wonder you’re so fat,” Michael said bluntly, eying Gabriel in disapproval as Lucifer stole one of the pastries.

Gabriel experienced a familiar feeling of dread. This was going to be his life for the next couple of weeks – insults, ridiculing, looks of disgust and overall misery. 

“His baking isn’t even that good,” commented Lucifer as he polished off the croissant. “Mediocre at best. Should have followed the family business instead of wasting money he’ll never have on dreams which will never come true.”

Gabriel felt his shoulders beginning to slump. He’d heard the comments a thousand times before, but they never hurt any less. He would always be the disappointment of the family. 

Lucifer tossed the container in the air, catching it again and Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but his brother shoved the container back into his arms and Gabriel knew the croissants were already ruined. His shoulders fell a little lower.

“Why did you come here?” Sighed Gabriel in resignation. “We all know I’m not welcome back home and I’ve made it clear I’m trying to make a life for myself since my family obviously doesn’t want me. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Michael clasped his hands behind his back and ignored Gabriel’s entire question.

“Did you ever get around to purchasing a bed, brother? Or do you still call that empty, rat-infested squatter’s dump ‘home’?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Michael. “You know full-well that I spend every last scrap of cash on my tuition.”

“I see we’ll have to stay in a hotel once again,” sighed Michael dramatically. “Really, Gabriel, you’re not very good at playing host, are you?”

“You were never invited,” bit out Gabriel. “Feel free to leave at any time.”

“You don’t contact us as it is,” said Lucifer. “We only get the pleasure of seeing you once a year. Why would we leave when we only just got here?”

“I don’t have time for this,” muttered Gabriel as he whirled on his heel and stalked away, not caring where he ended up as long as it put distance between him and his brothers.

“You don’t have time?” Scoffed Michael as he and Lucifer trailed after Gabriel. “Are all those non-existent friends begging for your attention? Are family visits taking up all your time? How about that romantic relationship you’ll never have? Is that keeping you busy?” Michael curled his lips into a sneer. “Or maybe you actually consider a degree in cooking as work?”

“How about your girlfriend, Michael? How is she? Y’know, the one that cheated on you for five months before you even noticed anything was wrong?” Gabriel snapped.

Michael bristled. “I thought I told you to never mention Tessa again?”

Gabriel smirked in bitter satisfaction as he continued marching to wherever he was heading. “Sorry. Must have slipped my mind.” He stopped and whirled around to face his brothers. “And for your information, I do have friends. Good friends. Amazing friends who I hang out with all the time. And I have an awesome boyfriend who doesn’t care about my money situation or my lack of a supportive family.” He continued his determined marching.

It took a few moments for Michael and Lucifer to catch up.

“You’re still trying to shame the family?” Sneered Michael. “Haven’t you grown up yet? What exactly are you trying to achieve by embarrassing yourself like this?”

“Happiness!” Gabriel snapped. “What I’m trying to achieve is a happy life – which is more than I ever had with you and our parents.”

“Don’t be childish,” huffed Michael. “Mother and Father would have given you everything they gave us. You were the one who spoiled it for yourself by choosing that disgraceful lifestyle.”

Gabriel clamped his mouth shut, quickly deciding that arguing was pointless. His brothers told him the same thing every year and he would never be able to change their minds. They loathed his ‘lifestyle’ and now that he had Sam, he realised that he didn’t need to explain himself because he was already happy. Their ideas didn’t matter because he already had someone who wanted him.

“Don’t worry, Mikey. I’m sure this mystery man won’t stay too long,” said Lucifer. “I mean… what has little bro got to offer anyone? Except for that face of his to scare off any potential burglars.”

Michael chuckled quietly and Gabriel felt his cheeks redden in shame. Was he really that ugly?

“Unless the guy’s into people who smell like they haven’t showered in a week,” continued Lucifer and Gabriel subtly sniffed his shirt. He smelled like flour and sugar, which wasn’t really a surprise when he’d spent so long in the kitchens. It wasn’t that repulsive, was it?

He finally looked up and noticed he was near the sports department. He didn’t think he’d ever walked to the sports department.

“Maybe our bro just has a good personality,” mocked Lucifer. “That or he gives great head.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Shut up. Sam’s good to me. We’ve been through a lot together and I know you don’t like it, but he’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and things are serious between us. So back off.”

“Sam, huh?” Lucifer drawled. “Sounds like an obese forty-something, bearded guy with a bald patch and a furry fetish. Let me guess… he’s a janitor?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Med-student. Young, hot, six-foot-four, smart with a heart of gold.” Gabriel glowered at his brothers. “And if I have my way, he’ll never have the displeasure of meeting either of you.”

“Aren’t you a little old for imaginary friends?” Lucifer smirked.

“Why would anyone like that choose you?” Asked Michael, one eyebrow cocked. “Were you the losing side of a bet?”

Gabriel puffed out his chest in anger. “No, I wasn’t! Sam genuinely likes me and I’m pretty sure the entire college knows how much I lo- like him. Now, leave me alone!”

Michael narrowed his eyes and Gabriel knew neither of his brothers had missed his little slip.

“You’re lying,” said Michael. “You’re overweight, dense and you’d shatter a mirror just by looking at it if you had any funds to buy one. Why would anyone want you?”

Gabriel felt heat prickle behind his eyes and he tried to ignore it. Why did his brothers always say that sort of crap to him? Why couldn’t he have brothers who loved him? Why did they have to hurt him at every opportunity? 

Why was he such a disappointment to everyone?

“Wow. I can tell I’m gonna end up punching you in the face by the end of the day.”

Gabriel blinked at the new voice and nearly jumped when an arm settled around his shoulders. 

“Are we to presume your name is Sam?” Asked Lucifer, judgemental gaze raking over the new arrival.

“Nah. I’m his big brother; Dean. Am I to presume you’re Gabe’s asshole brothers?” Dean asked, returning Lucifer’s expression almost perfectly.

Michael gazed at Dean coolly. “I don’t remember inviting you to join our family conversation.”

“Oh, so _now_ you want to be his family?” Dean squeezed Gabriel’s shoulder, tugging him a little closer to his side and Gabriel bit back a grin at how protective the oldest Winchester was suddenly acting. “Where’ve you been for the past twelve years?”

Michael and Lucifer stared at Dean and the younger man snorted and turned his attention to Gabriel as though the other two men didn’t exist.

“Want a ride back to the suite or you gonna wait for Sam? He’ll just come straight home if he knows you’re already there.”

Gabriel saw the option of escape for what it was and he smiled gratefully at Dean. “A ride back sounds great. Thanks.”

Dean grinned and clapped Gabriel on the back. “Awesome. Now you’ll get to experience a real car, not that crappy Lamborghini of Sammy’s.”

Gabriel took silent satisfaction in his brothers’ identical looks of shock.

“Hey, what do you think of Range Rovers, Dean?” Gabriel couldn’t help but ask.

Dean immediately screwed his nose up. “Make a nice ornament on top of a burning scrap heap.”

Gabriel bit back a laugh at Lucifer’s indignant scowl as Dean began leading him to wherever he’d parked the Impala. As predicted, Lucifer and Michael trailed after them.

“Suite?” Michael frowned. “I thought you lived in that shoddy apartment downtown? In the street that houses all those drug dealers and criminals.”

Before Gabriel got a chance to respond, Dean cast Michael a distasteful glance.

“Gabe has a key to our suite,” he said, neither denying or affirming Michael’s comment. 

Michael fell quiet at that but Lucifer wasn’t satisfied with the answer. “Yeah, but where does he live?”

Once again, Gabriel didn’t get a chance to respond because Dean tightened his grip ever so slightly on his shoulder and narrowed his eyes at Lucifer. “His home is with us.”

Lucifer straightened at the challenge in Dean’s words and Gabriel was touched at how Dean glared back unapologetically, daring either of the older Miltons to protest his statement. When they didn’t, Dean continued leading Gabriel to the car.

“And how exactly did you come to befriend our little brother?” Asked Michael, lips turned downwards.

There was a moment where Gabriel swore Dean grimaced, but the expression was gone quicker than he could dissect it.

“He’s Sam’s boyfriend. Ask him. I just found him at the suite one day, decided he was pretty awesome and haven’t looked back since,” Dean grunted, not quite looking at Gabriel.

To be honest, Gabriel was thankful that Dean hadn’t mentioned why he’d actually been in the suite. He was pretty certain his brothers would have a field day with the knowledge that he was so strapped for cash that he’d offered to cook for the Winchesters in order to eat at least one meal per day. The less his brothers knew, the better.

He smiled when he caught sight of the Impala. She really was a gorgeous car.

Dean still hadn’t removed his hand from Gabriel’s shoulder and the shorter man was grateful for it. For the first time ever, he felt as though he didn’t have to face his brothers alone. Not only did he have Sam’s support, he also had Dean’s and whilst he knew Dean hadn’t been happy at Gabriel’s description of his brothers, he hadn’t expected the older Winchester to actively defend him either.

He slid into the passenger seat, Dean taking the driver’s seat without even a glance at Michael and Lucifer.

“Hold up. We trekked all the way out here to come see our little bro. You can’t just kidnap him and leave us here,” protested Lucifer. 

Dean snorted and switched on the ignition. “Right, because you love and care about him and truly want to hear how he’s been doing this past year.” Dean flicked his cold gaze to the other two men. “If he wanted to talk to you, he wouldn’t be in my car.”

Lucifer and Michael bristled and Gabriel grinned at Dean, delighted at how things were suddenly looking up for him.

Dean reversed out of his parking space and rolled away from Michael and Lucifer, who stared after the car with equal expressions of ire.

Gabriel’s grin widened. “Thank you.”

Dean finally allowed a small smile to cross his face. “No problem. They seem like dicks.”

“They are.” Gabriel’s gaze softened. “No one’s ever defended me like that before. Especially not against them.”

Dean’s brows drew together. “Well, that’s about to change, starting from now. You don’t want those guys near you? We’ll keep them away from you. You don’t have to put up with their crap.”

“…You have no idea how much that means to me, Dean. The fact that you’d even consider defending me like that…”

Dean went quiet, but it was clear he genuinely cared about Gabriel and the older man wore a tiny smile for the remainder of the journey.

 

* * *

 

Castiel sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face as everyone in the lecture theatre began to pack up. He’d been stuck in the same room for four hours with only a five-minute break and his lecturers hadn’t been the most engaging of speakers, nor had the content been particularly easy to understand. Combine all that with his housemate’s mysterious activities last night, resulting in a lack of sleep and Cas was feeling tired and grumpy and desperate to go home. Unfortunately, he had one lecture left and it wasn’t for another two hours.

He watched the other students leave the room and closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the peace and quiet before he’d inevitably have to move for whomever had booked the room for the next hour.

“Hey, sexy.”

Castiel startled at the voice and snapped his gaze to his right, only to feel a relieved smile sweep over his face at the sight of a grinning Dean. The younger man took the seat beside Castiel and slung an arm around the back of his chair, concerned gaze raking over Cas’ tired face.

“You alright?” He asked softly.

Castiel huffed out a humourless laugh and let his head fall onto Dean’s shoulder. “Tomorrow, I’m coming into college with a blanket and a pillow.”

Dean’s fingers carded through Cas’ hair soothingly as his head leaned against the older man’s. Cas closed his eyes with a contented smile. He mused over how talented Dean’s fingers were.

“Rough night?” Dean asked quietly.

Castiel nodded slowly and let his hand rest on Dean’s thigh. “Crowley was… doing something.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Anything specific?”

“Banging. Walking around the lounge and kitchen. Probably searching for something. Or maybe sneaking an elephant into the house,” grumbled Castiel, making Dean smile.

“Your housemate is really weird.”

“I swear he’s a vampire,” huffed Castiel. “I barely ever see him but when I do, he always seems like he’s up to something.”

Dean chuckled and continued combing his fingers through his lover’s hair. “If I recall correctly, you don’t have a lecture now?”

Castiel leaned further into Dean’s side and shook his head. He wished he could stay like this for the rest of the day.

He grunted in surprise when he was suddenly lifted out of his seat and placed on Dean’s lap. 

“Dean, there’ll be another lecture in here soon. We need to leave.”

Dean shook his head and tucked Cas’ head into his neck. “Checked the room timetable before I came in. No lectures in here for another couple of hours. Now relax.”

Castiel fell quiet as Dean rubbed his back slowly, digging his palm into the muscles and manipulating them in a heavenly manner. Once again, Castiel closed his eyes and melted into Dean, curling his arms around his lover just to feel the warmth of his body.

“Wanna sleep at mine tonight?” Dean murmured beside Castiel’s ear, nuzzling his cheek affectionately. “Get away from the vampire?”

Castiel smiled and nodded. A night spent in Dean’s arms sounded amazing, especially in his exhausted state.

Lips grazed his cheek. “Awesome. Maybe I could make you a meal? What do you fancy?”

Castiel didn’t think his heart could get any fuller for the man holding him. “Surprise me,” he whispered, kissing Dean’s neck tenderly.

Dean smirked and tilted Cas’ chin upwards with a finger before sealing their lips together. The kiss was slow and leisurely and bursting with adoration and Cas pressed into Dean, hungry for the man who meant so much to him. Dean reciprocated, holding Castiel a little tighter and threading a hand into his hair so he could scratch his nails lightly over Cas’ scalp. Castiel’s hands slipped under Dean’s shirt, resting on the bare skin of his hips and it was only when he rubbed his fingers just below Dean’s waistband, did he feel the odd material.

Frowning in confusion, Cas hooked a thumb under the thin strand of material and gently stretched it above Dean’s waistband. His mouth went dry at the delicate pink satin. 

“…Dean,” he breathed as the realisation hit him like a freight train. 

Dean grinned wolfishly. “You like ‘em?” He winked as Castiel ran the material between his fingers.

“How will I possibly focus on my last lecture knowing that you’re wearing them?” Murmured Cas as he captured Dean’s lips in another kiss; this one a little more heated than the last.

“You wanna see ‘em?” Asked Dean, legs parting a little wider as he reached for his zip.

Alarmed, Castiel grabbed his wrist and glanced around. “We’re in a lecture theatre!”

“An empty lecture theatre,” corrected Dean with a smirk. “Besides, doesn’t that make things more exciting? The thrill of avoiding getting caught…”

Cas licked his lips as his gaze dropped to Dean’s crotch. He really did want to see them.

“Alright,” he whispered.

Dean grinned and slowly undid his zip, shifting a little so he could roll the top of his jeans down and give Castiel a glimpse of the elegant pink panties. Cas’ breath hitched and he traced a finger down the bulge of Dean’s dick, making the other man shudder as his hips jerked slightly. The panties didn’t quite cover him completely and Castiel smirked at the sight of Dean’s testicles spilling out of the shiny satin. He brushed a finger over one, chuckling when Dean tightened his grip in his hair.

“Don’t start anything you’re too tired to finish,” whispered Dean and Cas smiled and tilted forwards so he could lean his head against Dean’s shoulder, their chests flush with one another.

“They’re beautiful,” murmured Cas, pressing his lips to Dean’s jaw. “What made you wear them?”

Dean returned to stroking his hair. “Your texts this morning. You sounded grumpy about your timetable and I thought you could do with a pick-me-up.” He kissed Cas’ cheek. “I’m glad you like them.”

Castiel closed his eyes and focused on Dean’s body; on his strong arms and warm skin and broad chest. He nuzzled into the hint of stubble dusting Dean’s jaw and relaxed as gentle fingers petted his hair. Dean took such good care of him and Castiel wanted to prove his appreciation.

He slipped a hand between them and his fingertips grazed the cool satin. 

“What are you up to?” Dean hummed in amusement, nuzzling his cheek.

Castiel smiled and lightly trailed his finger over Dean’s dick once more, the shiny material smoothing his path. Dean sighed softly and curled his arm more securely around his lover, and Castiel’s touches grew a little firmer as he circled Dean’s tip.

“I thought you were tired?” Smirked Dean.

Castiel’s smile widened but he didn’t reply. With two digits, he slid down Dean’s length and eventually came to his balls, which he stroked through the thin material. Dean shifted slightly and Castiel bit back a grin before cupping his balls in one hand and rolling them gently behind the panties. Dean exhaled deeply and slid a hand down to Cas’ ass, splaying over it possessively.

Pushing his nose into Dean’s neck, Cas returned to lazily stroking Dean’s length and he bit back a chuckle at how it was gradually stiffening. After a few moments, Cas unzipped his own trousers and slid higher up Dean’s lap. He rutted against Dean a few times before Dean pawed gently at his underwear. Raising an eyebrow, Cas rolled his jeans lower until he could feel the chill of the lecture theatre on his thinly-clothed ass. Then he tugged his underwear down and felt his cheeks redden at the knowledge that his bare ass was now on display for anyone who decided to walk into the theatre at that moment. He relaxed when Dean’s hand splayed over it again, hiding it from view.

Dean kissed his cheek reassuringly, as though he knew exactly what Cas had been thinking and the older man smiled gratefully. Then, he carefully brushed his dick over the smooth panties, closing his eyes at their coolness. He did it again, harder this time as he made sure to rub himself against the bulge of Dean’s hard length. Dean released a quiet groan and tugged Castiel closer in encouragement, and Cas snaked his arms around Dean and began to rut against him, the panties the only thing separating their hot skin.

Minutes passed before Castiel finally shifted the panties to one side, allowing Dean’s dick to spring free. They both groaned at the first slide of skin on skin. It wasn’t long before Dean carefully pushed Castiel off him, forcing him to stand. Cas frowned in confusion but then Dean pulled his lover’s trousers off completely, along with his underwear and Cas was left standing red-faced with his lower half exposed. Dean tugged his own jeans down a little further before gesturing for Cas to sit in his lap again.

Curious, Cas did, but when he tried to wrap his hand around their lengths, Dean caught his wrist. He rummaged in his jacket pocket for something and when he finally found what he’d been searching for, Cas huffed out a laugh.

“Someone was feeling optimistic today,” he teased as Dean uncapped the tiny bottle of lubricant.

Dean winked and Cas didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but Dean spreading the liquid over his own dick wasn’t on the list. That didn’t mean he was against it. The idea of Dean taking him whilst still wearing the panties made his mouth go dry.

“Come here,” said Dean and Cas willingly melted into Dean’s chest, tucking his face into his lover’s neck once more as Dean rasped his knuckles down his back.

Dean circled a finger around his entrance for a few seconds, the remaining cool lube coating his fingers making Castiel shiver. He licked his lips when Dean began brushing his fingers over his hole, but when he tried to slip one inside, Castiel gripped his bicep and shook his head.

“I’m ready,” he whispered.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I like it snug,” chuckled Castiel, nipping Dean’s jaw playfully.

Dean’s face lit up and he kissed his lover heatedly on the lips before lifting Cas’ hips and guiding his dick to his boyfriend’s entrance.

Castiel hummed against Dean’s mouth at the first breech of his entrance and Dean was slow as he eased into his lover, giving Cas time to adjust. Eventually, Cas was seated properly on his boyfriend and he groaned quietly as Dean began to thrust into him gently. Cas soon got with the program and began rising and sinking onto his boyfriend, claiming his lips in a hungry tangle of tongues as Dean clutched his ass and rubbed his back. He could feel the smooth panties brushing his skin with every thrust.

Their rhythm was slow and lazy and Castiel felt like he had all the time in the world to enjoy what his boyfriend was doing to him. He dropped his head to Dean’s shoulder and closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of warmth both in his chest and pooling low in his belly. Dean nipped the juncture between his neck and shoulder before mouthing at the same spot.

“Touch yourself,” Dean whispered against his skin and Cas wrapped long fingers around his own dick and stroked himself teasingly, humming contentedly as Dean continued rubbing the muscles in his back.

Cas loved the rough, passionate sex he and Dean engaged in. He loved the desperate, hungry sex they had. He loved the playful sex too and the times they had experimented with Dean’s toys. But there was something incredibly special about this slow, leisurely kind of sex, where there was no rush to get one another off and no desperate groans or needy whimpers. It was just them enjoying touching one another, relishing the feeling of being close; of taking care of one another. There were only contented hums and happy sighs between them as they held each other, kissing and nuzzling and giving each other what they needed.

It took a long time for that familiar pressure to build in their bellies and when it did, they merely shared a languid kiss and let the pressure grow. Cas came first, shooting over his own hand in order to save Dean’s clothes. Dean came shortly after, breathing Cas’ name as he did so and Castiel hummed contentedly at the warm liquid that filled him.

Cas snuggled into Dean and his boyfriend nuzzled the hickey he’d made on Cas’ shoulder and curled his arms protectively around him. Castiel wished they could remain like that for the rest of the afternoon.

“You look gorgeous,” whispered Dean and Cas’ cheeks tinged pink. Dean didn’t often do soft and soppy, but when he did, it never failed to make Cas blush.

“That’s the sex talking,” he mumbled, hiding his face in Dean’s neck.

Dean chuckled and rubbed Cas’ ass cheek gently. “No. It’s me saying how amazingly irresistible you are and how I still can’t believe that you’re mine.”

Castiel tried to hide his smile but he was pretty certain Dean felt it anyway.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, Cas,” Dean teased. “You’re too kinky to get shy over me calling you ‘gorgeous’.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and shifted, putting pressure on Dean’s over-sensitive dick, which was still inside him.

Dean groaned. “Now you’re just playing dirty.”

“Speaking of dirty…” Castiel murmured, gesturing to his sticky hand.

Dean nodded to his gym bag and Castiel leaned over and pulled out a towel with a chuckle. “Very optimistic.”

Dean grinned and Cas cleaned them both up, awkwardly pulling off his boyfriend and grimacing at the dry mess clinging to their skin. Once he was clean, Cas quickly tugged his clothes on and Dean fixed his jeans. Cas was surprised however, when Dean dragged him back into his lap.

“We’ve got nowhere to be for at least an hour and a half,” commented Dean as he returned to stroking Cas’ hair soothingly. “Rest.”

Castiel wanted to protest but as Dean began peppering kisses over his neck and playing with his hair, he quickly decided he was happy right where he was. His head nestled against Dean’s shoulder as he closed his eyes and smoothed a hand over his boyfriend’s broad chest.

When Dean rubbed slow circles into his back, Castiel dozed off.

 

* * *

 

“Is it true you two had sex in a lecture theatre?”

Castiel blinked and glanced at Dean, who shrugged and stared at the grinning Meg.

“I’m only asking because apparently the room you _copulated_ in… had CCTV,” smirked Meg. “And a few people heard security complaining about _‘It’s Dean Winchester again. Someone needs to sterilise that kid so cleaning doesn’t have to sterilise every room in the college._ ’”

Dean flushed red as Castiel’s eyes blew wide in horror.

The entire table burst into laughter and Dean and Cas took their seats beside Sam and Gabriel, who had decided to join them for lunch since Kevin, Garth and Charlie were stuck in lectures.

“Dude, how do you even get Cas to go along with your filthy kinks?” Sam teased, earning himself a punch in the arm from his brother.

“I bet it was the panties,” Gabriel stage-whispered and when both Dean and Cas’ eyes blew even wider than before, the table fell silent for a moment before realisation struck and they erupted into fits of laughter again.

“You’re wearing panties?” Sam wheezed, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he tried to calm his uncontrollable laughter. Dean shoved him harshly.

“Shut up,” he growled.

It took a while for everyone’s snickers to finally die down and when they did, conversation turned to exams and coursework deadlines.

“I am so far behind with my dissertation,” sighed Hannah. “I’m supposed to have a first draft in by the end of the week and I’m still a thousand words under the limit. I just don’t know what else to write about coral colonies.”

“I’m behind on my dissertation too,” hummed Balthazar. “I’m supposed to be researching influential figures leading into the romantic era of music.” He turned to Hannah. “Want to meet up at the library tomorrow after lectures? Might reduce the brain-numbing boredom.”

Hannah offered him a smile and nodded. “Sounds great,” she said gratefully.

Balthazar smirked and flicked his gaze to Gadreel. “You wouldn’t mind me taking your lovely lady out on a date tomorrow night, would you, mon cher?”

Gadreel rolled his eyes. “I think you need to set your standards a little higher for your first dates.”

“You’ll have to demonstrate these high standards to me one day.” Balthazar winked flirtily and an amused smile pulled at Gadreel’s lips as Hannah bit back a giggle.

“Hey, little bro.”

Gabriel’s expression faded into a blank stare as he slowly cast his gaze to the new arrivals and beside him, Sam and Dean tensed, gearing up for a fight.

“What do you want?” Gabriel deadpanned as he stared at his brothers. He watched the rest of the table beginning to frown as they figured out who their unwanted guests were.

“Well, since you ran off so early yesterday, we were hoping to spend a bit more time with you today,” drawled Lucifer. He flicked his gaze to Dean in distaste. “Unless your bodyguard wants to deny you the right to see your family?”

“Family?” Hissed Sam, fists clenched. “You think you’re his family?”

Michael cocked an eyebrow. “Considering we’re his brothers… yes. Who exactly are you supposed to be?”

“His boyfriend,” growled Sam. “The same boyfriend who has heard all the stories of him getting bullied and humiliated by his so-called ‘family’.”

Gabriel squeezed Sam’s knee gently, attempting to calm him. Michael wrinkled his nose.

“So, you’re the boyfriend?” He asked in distaste. “You’re the one who’s encouraging this… repugnant lifestyle of Gabriel’s?”

“And he’s doing a fantastic job at it,” Gabriel commented drily. “I’m really enjoying this _repugnant lifestyle_ he’s introduced me to. Y’know, all those filthy things like cooking together, watching movies under fluffy blankets, visiting the zoo, helping each other with our studying… he’s got me into some really wild stuff.”

Michael narrowed his eyes as Lucifer’s gaze raked over Sam silently.

“Somewhere deep inside, you know what you’re doing is wrong,” growled Michael.

Gabriel snorted. “Trust me, when Sam’s deep inside me, absolutely nothing is wrong.”

Michael made a sound of disgust as the rest of the table bit back laughter. Sam slipped an arm around Gabriel’s waist and kissed his cheek lightly before smirking pointedly at the older Miltons.

“You claim that we’ve treated you poorly, but the truth is you were always rebelling against the family and trying to paint us as the villains. You claimed to hate the family business, telling father that you had no intention of working for him. Then you go and choose a career in _cooking,_ which is possibly the most laughable path you could have gone with. After school, mother spots you kissing _Mick Davies_ underneath the bleachers, despite us raising you to be better than that. Even when our parents kicked you out, you still weren’t apologetic. You told us you’d rather live on the streets than apologise for everything you’d done,” sneered Michael.

“And you made sure that’s exactly what I did,” retorted Gabriel fiercely. “I lived on the streets for six months and in an orphanage for twenty and you made sure to visit me every year to tell me what a disappointment I was. In fact, you’re still doing it! I can’t even move on with my life because you keep tying me to my crappy past and telling me how worthless I am!”

“Are you really surprised after the choices you’ve made?” Snapped Michael. “You ruined our family! Mother is heartbroken at how you turned out and Father won’t even speak your name! The rest of the family laughs at us because we couldn’t control you! Not like you care though, right? You’ve never cared about us.”

“You disowned me for kissing a boy!” Gabriel snarled. “You threw me out onto the streets! And you think it was me who never cared about you?”

“If you cared, you wouldn’t be considering cooking as a job whilst you let another man defile your body,” Michael said coolly. “We call you worthless because that’s exactly what you’ve proved yourself to be.”

Gabriel’s mouth turned downwards as his shoulders slumped a little. His brother words should have stopped affecting him years ago, but for some reason, they still hurt.

“He’s worthless to your parents because they can’t force him to do what they want. He’s worthless to you because he’s learned how to stand up for himself and you know nothing you say will ever get him to come back to you,” Sam said lowly. “He’s worth the world to his friends, who can count on him to make them laugh when they need it most and even when they don’t need it. He’s worth everything to the people who need someone to talk to, someone to lend a friendly ear and a patient smile. He’s worth so much to the café he works at, because he keeps the customers coming back and he loves the food he makes.” Sam lifted his chin defiantly. “And you know what? He’s priceless to me.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened at the confession, his chest filling with an intense warmth.

“Yeah, so you can keep chatting shit about him, but the truth is his real family is right here,” said Dean. “And to us, he’s worth more than you’ll ever mean to anyone.”

Michael bristled, Lucifer scowling beside him. When silence settled between them, Balthazar rolled his eyes.

“Darlings, that’s your cue to leave. You’ve succeeded in making yourself look like bigoted idiots, now it’s time to go.”

Michael clenched his fists, looking ready to say something else, but then he whirled on his heel and marched out of the dining hall, Lucifer skulking behind him.

“They need to make this place student card access only,” huffed Meg. 

Gabriel sagged and leaned into Sam. “Thank you,” he whispered before glancing over at Dean. “You too.”

Sam tightened his grip around him. “Sorry you have to put up with that.”

Gabriel shook his head. “What you said… I… You have no idea how much…”

Sam squeezed him gently and kissed his head. “It’s all true. You mean so much to everyone here.” He nuzzled Gabriel’s ear and lowered his voice so only his boyfriend could hear. “Especially to me.”

Gabriel blinked back the tears threatening to glaze his eyes.

 _I love you too,_ he thought. He shook the words out of his mind. It was too soon and not even close to the right time to say something like that.

“How about I take you out to dinner tonight?” Hummed Sam softly. “Take your mind off things?”

“Actually, I happen to know Dean has a game tonight,” said Castiel. “I was thinking we could support him and order pizza.”

Dean blinked for a few seconds, gaze vacant before he straightened. “Oh, crap, yeah. I do.”

Castiel chuckled. “I had a feeling you’d forgotten.”

Dean grinned sheepishly as Sam and Gabriel rolled their eyes.

“Who are you playing?” Asked Meg curiously.

“University of California,” said Dean. “Pretty big game actually.”

“Start time?”

“Kick off is at six-thirty,” said Dean. 

“Pizza and soccer it is,” grinned Gabriel eagerly and Dean scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You don’t have to watch, guys. I know you’re not into sport.”

“Actually, Hannah is,” said Gadreel. “She gets very… enthusiastic.”

Dean stared at her in surprise. “Seriously?”

“What? A girl can’t like soccer?” Huffed Hannah, causing Dean to shake his head quickly.

“Not at all, I just didn’t expect… you.”

Hannah snorted. “You’d better win tonight. I don’t hang around with losers.”

Gadreel’s eyes nearly disappeared into the back of his skull. He was clearly used to his girlfriend’s quips.

Dean grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Then why on Earth are you hanging around Gadreel?” Teased Balthazar as he winked at Hannah. He grunted when Gadreel elbowed him.

“Awesome, so that’s tonight sorted. We still on for Friday’s movie night?” Asked Gabriel and the others nodded.

“You gonna cook for us again, Gabe?” Asked Meg, barely concealing her excitement at the thought.

Gabriel chuckled. “I’m beginning to think you guys just stick around for the free meals.”

“That and the awesome suite,” winked Meg.

“Does everyone like quesadillas?” Asked Gabriel and when he was answered by enthusiastic nodding, he leaned back against his seat and made a mental list of ingredients.

His brothers were wrong about him. He was far from worthless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I torture Gabe because I love him ;)


	27. Chapter 27

A week flew by. Michael and Lucifer attempted to corner Gabriel a few times, sneering insults and degrading comments at him, but each time, Sam, Dean, Castiel or their friends were there to steer him away or hurl comments back. For once in his life, Gabriel didn’t feel the urge to scream out his frustrations or punch a wall (or indeed cry himself to sleep, which had happened on a couple of occasions) whilst his brothers were visiting. His friends were showing him that he mattered and Gabriel couldn’t remember ever being this happy. The best part was that Michael and Lucifer were due to go home the next day and he wouldn’t have to see them for another year. Gabriel felt as though his life was finally looking up for him.

Unfortunately, good things never lasted.

 

* * *

 

_Five days previous_

Azazel stabbed his chicken mercilessly and brought the chunk to his lips with a thick scowl as he glowered at Sam and Gabriel. They were sitting in a booth with Dean and Castiel and their friends, smiles too wide and gazes too cheery for Azazel’s liking. He flicked his gaze to the equally irritated Ruby, Bela and Raphael. Sam was supposed to be sitting with them, not wrapping his arm around Milton. What did Sam even see in him anyway? Maybe he was just good in the sack.

He stabbed at his chicken again.

“How are they even still together?” Grumbled Ruby. “They have nothing in common. Not to mention Gabriel is so old.”

Azazel didn’t respond. His relationship with Ruby had been strained recently and even sex didn’t hold that much appeal. Not that they had a particularly loving relationship in the first place.

“We’re not still talking about this, are we?” Scowled Bela. She had been the first one to grow bored of the constant scrutiny of Sam’s relationship with Gabriel. The insults and muttered comments had grown stale over the past few months and Bela had quickly accepted that Sam wouldn’t come back to them even if Azazel and Ruby still held out hope. “It’s been months.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes at the other woman but said nothing.

Azazel glanced over to the happy couple once more. He just didn’t understand it. “Even Dean has changed. Haven’t heard any rumours of him sleeping around lately,” Azazel murmured. What had happened to the Winchester brothers?

Bela rolled her eyes and focused on her lunch. Raphael was silent beside her.

Raphael had grown quieter since Sam had left them. He didn’t throw as many parties now and he didn’t offer his input in conversations as much as he used to. He used to walk around with a smirk and a haughty gaze, back straight and proud as he commented on his observations. Now, he trailed the group with his eyes low and his expression neutral. He didn’t make comments any more. Recently, he hadn’t been hanging around Azazel, Bela or Ruby much. In fact, this was the first time they had seen him in four days.

Their group’s friendships were falling apart.

“What do you think, Raph?” Azazel challenged, determined to get the other man to speak. “What do you think’s going on with the Winchesters?”

Raphael looked a little startled, but he flicked his gaze to the group and watched the way everyone suddenly burst into laughter as a red-faced Dean and Castiel ducked their heads but still leaned into one another. He noted how relaxed Sam looked with Gabriel by his side and how bright Gabriel’s grin was when he was happy.

Raphael turned away. “I think they’ve found people who care for them,” he murmured quietly, gaze dropping to his book.

Azazel scowled and snatched the book from Raphael’s hands. “What is wrong with you?” He snapped, patience wearing thin. Bela and Ruby startled.

Raphael frowned and reached for his book, but Azazel held it out of his grasp. “I have always enjoyed reading,” Raphael settled on, brows creased. “Please return the book.”

“You used to be interesting,” sneered Azazel, tossing the novel at him carelessly. Raphael caught it with a frown and gently straightened the cover.

“You used to think Sam was interesting until he grew up and apologised to the people we scoffed at,” muttered Raphael. “Maybe you should follow his lead.”

Azazel clenched his fists. “You think Sam’s the good guy here? Good people don’t abandon their friends.”

“Good friends don’t use one another for money,” Raphael scowled. “Nor do they insult them.”

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?” Azazel growled, eyes like slits.

“I think I’ve said enough,” Raphael dismissed, gaze falling once again to his book. Beside him, Bela bit back a smile.

Azazel focused on Sam’s table again, cocking an eyebrow at how stiff Gabriel suddenly looked, Sam and Dean looking furious either side of him as two older men stood at the head of their table. There was some sort of argument happening.

“Well, well, well… looks like someone’s having a catfight now the littlest Winchester isn’t here to keep everyone in line.”

“What do you want, Alastair?” Scowled Ruby, arms crossed as she glared at the new group that had surrounded their table.

Lilith glanced her up and down. “Well, I can think of a few things,” she purred suggestively and Ruby reared back in disgust.

“Merely to talk,” said Alastair, smug smirk never leaving his face.

Azazel’s frown deepened. “About what?”

Alastair chuckled and suddenly his whole group was pulling up chairs and settling beside the four. Lilith ran a finger down Ruby’s arm and Ruby smacked her away.

“You want Sam back, right? Well, we want Dean back,” hummed Alastair. “Things just aren’t any fun without him.”

Azazel cocked an eyebrow, suddenly interested. “And I suppose you have an idea of how to do that?”

Alastair smirked. “We just need to get the girlfriends out of the way.”

Bela frowned. “You want to break their relationships?”

Gordon planted his fists on the table. “Not just break them up. Make it so Novak and Milton hate them.”

“They’ll soon come crawling back to us,” chuckled Abaddon.

Azazel nodded slowly. “And how do you propose to do that?”

“I’m sure you’re familiar with how Sam and Gabriel’s relationship initially started,” said Bartholomew with a sly smirk. “If not, we can fill you in with the details.”

Azazel shook his head. “No, we know about the bet.” He flicked his gaze over to Sam’s table and watched Sam practically snarl at the two unfamiliar strangers, grip on Gabriel tightening. “But considering the deadline passed months ago and they’re still together, I’d say it’s a moot point.”

“Until you factor in that Dean won the bet,” drawled Alastair. “All those rumours about him and Novak started the day after the deadline of the bet and Novak was spotted with some sizeable hickeys, which adds to the proof. That means that Dean won the bet.”

“Except they’ve obviously forgotten about the bet,” scowled Raphael, looking irritated at Alastair’s presence. “Which means it doesn’t count.”

“Doesn’t it?” Hummed Alastair. “Do you think Milton and Novak will see it that way? Milton was Sam’s losing side of the bet. Novak _was_ the bet. Do you really think either Winchester will have told them that dirty little secret?”

Azazel’s eyes brightened. “They still don’t know.”

Alastair grinned. “What do you think would happen if someone was to tell them before the Winchesters got around to it? I’d say it wouldn’t be pretty.”

Azazel slid his gaze to the strangers at Sam’s table. They looked livid as they turned and skulked into the crowd of the dining hall. He wondered who they were.

“I’d have to agree with you,” murmured Azazel, gaze lingering on the crowd the two men had disappeared into.

“Of course, they’d have to believe whatever we told them,” continued Alastair. “Which they’re probably not inclined to do. We’d need to word it in such a way that it makes them doubt the roots of their relationships. Better yet if we corner just one and he tells the other about his doubts. Makes everyone that much more suspicious.”

A smirk pulled at Azazel’s lips. “I’m interested.”

“You’re really that desperate to get them back?” Demanded Raphael. “Why? You don’t even like them all that much. Do you just want their money? Their bodies? Their misery? What is the point to all this?”

“What’s his problem?” Alastair muttered to Azazel, who shrugged.

“He’s been weird since Sam left. Now, when are we going to tell them?”

Raphael snapped his novel shut and stood. “I’ll have no part in this,” he growled. “Why can’t you just leave them alone?” Then he marched away without a single glance backwards.

“Who wants to be the one to tell them?” Asked Alastair, entirely ignoring Raphael’s outburst and Bela’s concerned gaze.

Azazel glanced at the crowd again. “…I might have an idea.”

 

* * *

 

_Now_

For once, Gabriel was wandering around the library. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, or even anything academic. He was browsing the shelves, glancing through the adult section with a smirk and the occasional chuckle. He would never check anything out from this section (although he was curious as to how Sam would react if he brought one of the kinkier books home), but he didn’t mind having a sneaky peek when no one was watching. After a while, he grew bored of erotica and ventured to the fiction section for something to occupy him for the next couple of hours whilst Sam was still in lectures. He picked up something by _Douglas Adams_ and strolled over to the soft beanbags bathed in sunlight from one of the larger windows. He settled into it and smiled at its warmth, basking in the feeling of the sun’s rays on his face before flipping his book open.

He should have thought about the consequences of sitting on the first floor in view of a huge window.

Approximately an hour later, right when he was learning about the Vogon people and their awful poetry, he felt a presence beside him. He looked up and scowled at the sight of Michael and Lucifer tilting their heads at him and looking far too smug for his tastes.

“Please leave. You might scare the sun away,” grumbled Gabriel, trying to focus his attention on his novel.

Lucifer plopped into the beanbag opposite him as Michael pulled up a chair. So much for the Vogons.

“Can I help you?” Asked Gabriel with sarcastic pleasantness. 

“How’s your day been?” Asked Lucifer with the kind of smile that made infants cry.

“Good until about thirty seconds ago,” replied Gabriel, fishing in his pocket for his phone when he felt it buzz. He smiled softly at the photo Sam had sent him. It was a picture of a Corgi with the words _‘You didn’t tell me you had a twin’_ written beneath it. His boyfriend was a dork. A dork who should have been paying attention to his lectures, not surfing the internet for pictures of puppies. He texted Sam as much, ignoring his unwanted company.

“Is that Sam?” Asked Lucifer airily.

“No, it’s Mom. She’s just texted me to say she’s incredibly sorry that she orphaned me at sixteen and now wants to invite me back into the family and meet my boyfriend as well as offer me a huge sum of cash to start up my very own restaurant chain,” Gabriel commented drily.

Lucifer leered at him. “Congratulations.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and returned his gaze to his phone, snickering at the new image Sam had sent him. The three people in front of him had hidden their heads behind their laptops and fallen asleep in the middle of the lecture. 

“Speaking of Sam, I’ve got to say I’m impressed,” hummed Michael. “You must trust him a great deal.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes suspiciously but refused to rise to the bait. “I do,” he said and dropped his gaze again.

“Personally, I don’t think I could live with that sort of knowledge,” continued Michael as though he was discussing the weather. “Especially with all the uncertainty.”

Gabriel glanced over at Michael for a moment but shook his head a moment later. Michael was trying to get inside his defences again and Gabriel wasn’t inclined to get involved with that. 

“Maybe their relationship is stronger than we thought, Mikey,” drawled Lucifer. “Either that or little brother’s blinded by his own feelings. I honestly can’t believe that he’s not even a little worried about the future. He obviously has a lot of faith in Sam, but what if that faith is… misplaced?”

Gabriel scowled at his phone and tried to ignore their babble. He had no idea what they were talking about and he didn’t care. The sooner they left, the better.

Michael suddenly frowned, looking thoughtful and it was the worst bit of acting Gabriel had ever witnessed.

“He definitely knows about it all, though, doesn’t he? You don’t think Sam would… keep secrets from him, do you?”

Lucifer frowned, also looking contemplative. “Hm… that’s a good question. I’ve got to assume Sam’s already told him. I mean… it would be cruel to hide it from him. Unless… unless Sam wants it kept quiet. But there’s only one reason why he’d want to do that…”

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow when they fell silent and turned their gazes on him. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the beanbag. “Fine, I’ll bite. What is this mystical secret you think Sam’s hiding from me?” He was a little curious, but he was more interested in humouring them so they would leave him alone.

Lucifer smiled. Well, bared his teeth really. “I’m sure Sam’s already told you, but we just want to check.”

“Spit it out,” sighed Gabriel.

“You’re aware of the bet Dean made with Sam in October, aren’t you?” Asked Michael, looking far too pleased with himself. “The one about Dean getting Castiel into bed with him?”

Gabriel frowned in confusion. “What bet?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened and a faked gasp left his lips. “Michael, he doesn’t know!”

Michael’s gaze turned solemn, but there was a spark dancing in his eyes that suggested he was enjoying every second of this charade.

“Oh, brother… You must know about the bet? Surely Sam has told you? It involves you in its terms.”

Gabriel scowled. “What are you talking about? What bet?”

“The one that stated Dean had to get Castiel to sleep with him by a specific date in November, lest he lose his beloved car to Sam. Fortunately for him, he succeeded in his mission and convinced Castiel into bed with him before the deadline was up,” said Michael, a smirk pulling at his lips.

Gabriel was quiet for a moment, but eventually his confusion won out. “Even if that was true, what does any of that have to do with me?”

Here, both of his brothers smirked slyly at him. 

“Well, dear brother,” began Lucifer. “Sam lost the bet and as such, he had to face a forfeit. Apparently, that forfeit was you.”

Michael nodded. “They agreed that if Dean lost the bet, Sam would get the car. However, if Sam lost the bet, his punishment was to court you until the end of his studies. I believe the terms are laid out explicitly in one of Dean’s journals.”

Gabriel was suddenly reminded of the journal Sam had thrown away and his unwillingness to let Gabriel view it. His heart missed a beat.

He shook his head firmly. “No. You’re lying. Sam wouldn’t do that to me.”

Except Sam hadn’t been all that kind when they’d first interacted back in October and Gabriel had always wondered what had made him reach out at that particular moment in time…

“The Winchesters aren’t cruel,” frowned Gabriel. “Dean is practically head over heels for Cas. No way is that a bet. And Sam and I certainly aren’t.”

Except Dean was known for his tendency to make bets of his sleeping partners. Wasn’t that what he had done to Balthazar?

Gabriel’s mouth turned downwards and he glowered at his smirking brothers. “Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just trying to mess with me; make me feel like crap. I’m sick of it. Leave me alone.”

Michael and Lucifer stood smoothly and slid away from the table, but not before Michael glanced over his shoulder.

“If you don’t believe us, brother, ask them yourself.”

And then he was gone.

Gabriel stared at his phone and the last text Sam had sent him.

_**Can’t wait to see you x** _

Gabriel shook his head again and pocketed his phone. His brothers were lying. That’s what they always did. No way was he someone’s lost bet. Sam treated him too well and kissed him too often for their relationship to be anything but real. Sam’s bright smile when they were together told him that he meant more than a stupid bet. 

He wouldn’t fall for his brothers’ tricks.

 

* * *

 

Sam beamed at the sight of Gabriel lounging on one of the benches outside the medicine department, novel in hand and sunniest spot of the bench sought out. He quickened his pace and Gabriel flicked his gaze up from the pages and grinned at him, so Sam swept him into his arms and kissed him soundly on the lips. He wasn’t usually the type for all the PDA, but he knew Gabriel loved it and he was quickly rewarded with a tug on his jacket and a deeper, more heated kiss.

“Ready?” Sam hummed as Gabriel straightened from the bench and tucked his borrowed novel into his bag. He carded his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, fixing the static that the bench had caused. Gabriel’s hair was so soft.

The shorter man nodded and Sam slotted their hands together as they meandered to the car. A few students glanced at them idly and Sam wondered if they noticed him puffing his chest out a little as he practically flaunted his wonderful boyfriend. He couldn’t remember ever being so happy. Gabriel wanted to be with him; liked his company and enjoyed talking to him and teaching him new things. They fit so perfectly into one another’s lives and maybe Sam was waxing poetic but he meant it and he still couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

He wondered how early into the relationship he was allowed to say _‘I love you’._

“What were you reading?” He asked instead as they settled into the Lamborghini. He pulled a face as he knocked his head again on the roof.

Gabriel bit back a snicker and strapped himself in. _“Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.”_

“What do you think of Trillian’s mice?”

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. “They’re just mice,” he said suspiciously and Sam grinned and offered nothing more.

They arrived at the suite a little while later after having an in-depth discussion about the plausibility of depression in androids. Sam lured Gabriel into the kitchen with the scent of minty hot chocolate and Gabriel stole the drink before Sam had barely finished making it.

“Good day?” Asked Sam, leaning against a counter with a cup of tea. Castiel had recently got him into tea and he had to admit, it was relaxing and he enjoyed experimenting with different flavours.

Gabriel nodded. “My brothers made a brief appearance but it didn’t affect the overall star rating.” He sidled up to Sam and relaxed into his side, leaning his head on his shoulder. Sam slipped an arm around him and kissed his head. Gabriel was very affectionate and Sam soaked up anything he was offered.

Gabriel carefully placed his half-empty mug on the counter before rocking onto his tiptoes to press his lips to Sam’s. Sam smiled and abandoned his own drink in favour of wrapping his arms around his lover and deepening their kiss. Gabriel slid his tongue into Sam’s mouth and practically ravished him and Sam held him closer, wondering what had brought on the sudden passion. He was used to teasing kisses and swats on the ass when they got home from college, but this sort of attention was unusual, especially since there didn’t seem to be a trigger.

Even when they pulled apart for air, Gabriel quickly latched onto his neck, kissing and nipping and sucking as his hands slid up and down Sam’s sides. Although he was confused, Sam wasn’t about to complain, so he hooked his hands around the back of Gabriel’s legs and lifted him until he could set him on the countertop. 

Gabriel seemed pleased at the increase in height and the kiss he tugged Sam in for required far less stretching and bending on both of their parts. Gabe’s hands slipped under Sam’s shirt, smoothing over warm skin and Sam came to stand between his lover’s legs, tongues sliding together in a heated mess as they sealed their lips together again. Sam wove his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, admiring its silkiness, before Gabriel wrapped his legs around his hips and pressed their bodies together.

He rubbed himself against Sam, seemingly trying to push closer even though that was impossible and all the while, his hands never stopped roaming under Sam’s shirt – around his back, over his sides, across his chest and stomach… Sam was enjoying it but he couldn’t help but wonder why Gabriel was acting so oddly.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked softly as they broke apart for air again. He stroked a thumb over Gabriel’s cheek and frowned gently at the way Gabriel leaned into his palm. 

Gabriel tried to pull him closer again, but Sam braced himself and held firm. His lover wilted.

“…Do you really like hanging out with me?” Asked Gabriel quietly. “I mean… I am kinda old compared to you. And we’re so different.” He looked around the expensive kitchen. “You sure you want to be with me like this?” He gestured to the way they were entwined with each other.

Sam frowned in surprise. What had brought this on?

“The way I see it, we’re not that different at all,” said Sam. “We like the same music and we’re into similar TV shows and books. We love going to the movies and having late night walks in the park. We like similar foods and we’re both into surprises. We love trying new things and meeting new people and we both have a thing for animals.” Sam cocked a lopsided smile. “And the few differences we do have… they’re what makes me love being with you even more. Your sharp wit and crude sense of humour and your affinity for pranks… Gabe, I love all those things about you.”

Gabriel had dropped his gaze, but his pleased smile betrayed his thoughts. Sam gently tilted his chin up and locked his gaze with sparkling amber eyes full of warmth and affection and hope. His own smile widened and he pressed their lips together sweetly, huffing in amusement when Gabriel nipped his bottom lip playfully. They pulled apart a moment later and Sam was once again entranced by those magical eyes.

“Gabe, I…” _I love you._ It was on the tip of his tongue. He just had to work his jaw and actually say the words. He could. He would mean them too, more than he’d ever meant anything in his life. He would never love anyone more than he loved the brilliant man in front of him. All he had to do was say those three little words… 

“…I don’t want you getting worked up over what your brothers say.” It was too early. He couldn’t. What if he scared Gabriel off? “You’re a far better man than they’ll ever hope to be. There’s no one in this world I’d rather be with right now, than you.”

Gabriel grinned and Sam’s breath left him. How could Gabriel ever doubt that Sam wanted him?

He yelped as Gabe dragged him in for a hot, filthy kiss; all tongue and teeth and wandering hands. As suddenly as it had started, Gabriel pulled back and pecked Sam’s nose.

“Thanks, kiddo,” Gabriel whispered, before sliding off the counter and reaching for his hot chocolate.

“Yeah, no problem,” snorted Sam before gesturing to the prominent tent in his jeans. “Thanks for this, by the way. What am I supposed to do with it?”

Gabriel laughed and drained his mug before stepping over to his boyfriend with a seductive smirk. He slid his hands over Sam’s chest and up to his shoulders and leaned in close. 

“I suppose I could help you out,” he purred. “On one condition.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow. “Your price?”

Gabriel began peppering wet kisses and teasing nips over his jaw. “You cook dinner tonight.”

A smile twitched at Sam’s lips. “Anything specific?”

“Surprise me,” whispered Gabriel, nipping at his neck.

“Done,” Sam breathed, unable to stop his hands from settling on Gabriel’s ass to tug him closer and steal a rough kiss from him. The man worked him up so much.

Gabriel chuckled against his mouth and unzipped his jeans. Sam laughed when the jeans were tugged all the way to his ankles, followed by his underwear. Suddenly, Gabriel was gone from his arms and Sam’s head thunked against a cupboard as lips wrapped around his length. It wasn’t what Sam had been expecting when Gabriel said he could help – a quick hand job would have done just fine – but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

Then Gabriel’s tongue smoothed up his shaft and over his head and Sam lost all coherent thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, when the moon had risen high into the sky and the suite had been plunged into darkness with only the illumination of the TV providing any light source, Gabriel snuggled further into Sam, stretching lazily over the couch. Sam squeezed him gently, body pressed into Gabriel’s back and arm strewn over his side, hand rubbing small circles into his stomach without Sam seeming to notice.

They would probably go to bed soon, but the evening was quiet without Dean occupying the suite, so they enjoyed their alone time for a little while longer, only half-focusing on the movie.

“Thank you for earlier,” Gabriel whispered into the darkness. “I know I was being stupid, but I really needed to hear all that.”

Sam nuzzled the back of his neck. “You weren’t being stupid,” he murmured. “Just promise me that if you ever get upset by anything, you’ll tell me and we can sort it out together.”

“I promise,” Gabriel mumbled, laying his hand over Sam’s. “You gonna give me that same assurance?”

Sam smiled and nodded. “I promise.” He continued rubbing Gabriel’s stomach lightly. “Wanna talk about what they said to you?”

Gabriel snorted. “It was ridiculous, really. I don’t know why it got under my skin. They were obviously lying – didn’t even try to make it sound like something you’d do.”

Sam cocked an amused eyebrow and kissed Gabriel’s shoulder. “They were talking about me?”

Gabriel shook his head with a chuckle. “Sounds absurd now that I think about it. As if you’d ever do anything like that.”

Sam felt a grin forming and he kissed Gabriel’s neck. “Did they say I was eloping with the head cheerleader?” He teased. “Sneaking off to the locker room with the basketball coach?”

Gabriel huffed out a laugh. “Worse.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense!”

Gabriel shook his head again with an amused grin. “They said that you were only dating me because you lost a bet with Dean. Ridiculous, right?”

Sam’s blood turned to ice in his veins and his vocal cords seized up as his lips parted in horrified shock. The bet had always niggled at him; his guilt levels rising with every passing day that he kept it a secret from Gabe… but they had been so happy. He kept forgetting about it or putting the confession off because he had assumed that it wasn’t important anymore, especially since neither he nor Dean had even addressed it since November. How did Gabriel’s brothers know about it?

He must have stiffened or maybe his silence had stretched on for too long because Gabriel frowned and twisted his neck slightly. “Sam?”

Sam wanted to explain everything. He wanted to tell Gabriel about the bet and explain how it meant nothing to him anymore – hadn’t for a long time. He wanted to tell him how Gabe had come to mean so much more to him than some losing side of a bet. He wanted to say how sorry he was for making such a stupid bet in the first place, but he was glad for it in part otherwise they wouldn’t be together now. He wanted to say how much he loved being with Gabriel and how much he appreciated Gabriel for turning him into a better person over the past few months; for teaching him how to be patient and kind and considerate and loyal, and for helping him make new and better friends than those who had been using him.

His jaw opened and closed a few times, but he could find the words. Didn’t know where to start.

Gabriel stilled beside him. “Sam?” He whispered again, dread filling his tone. “I’m not part of a bet, am I?”

Sam swallowed thickly. He couldn’t lie to his lover. 

_“Sam,”_ Gabriel pleaded and he could hear the shake of his voice, the fear and impatience saturating the word.

“…At first,” Sam confessed into the darkness, wishing he could see Gabriel’s face. “But not now. Not for a very long time.”

Gabriel was silent for far too long and Sam began to panic.

“We made a bet in October,” Sam said, rushed and filled with an ominous feeling of loss. “If Dean couldn’t get Cas into bed in one month, then I would get his car. If he did manage to sleep with Cas, I… I would have to date you for the remainder of my course.” Sam held Gabriel a little tighter, as though letting go would result in Gabriel walking out of the suite and never coming back. 

“But things changed,” Sam almost pleaded. “We changed. Dean realised he wanted more from life than meaningless sex and I… I’ve learned so much from you, Gabe. You taught me how to be a better person. You were patient with me. Kind. You made me see that how I treated people was wrong and then you helped to fix all my flaws and my bad personality and just… everything that was awful about me. And I know I’m still learning, but you’re still helping me and teaching me new things and I love every second we spend together. I love getting to know you and cooking with you and watching movies with you and going on dates with you. I love everything about you from your smile to your huge heart and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I know I should have, but I didn’t know how to and then I forgot because that bet means nothing to me and hasn’t since November and I know it was a horrible thing to do, but I’m sorry because I’d never want to hurt you ‘cos you mean everything to me and I- ” He cut himself off abruptly, realising he had dissolved into desperate blabber.

Gabriel didn’t offer a single sound.

“Say something,” Sam begged after an entire minute had passed. “Please.”

After a few seconds, Sam noticed Gabriel’s stomach was clenched tight beneath his hand and he levered himself up on one elbow and felt his heart sink at the sight of tears slowly seeping out of Gabriel’s closed eyes.

“Gabe,” he whispered, distraught. “It doesn’t mean anything. Honestly, that bet means nothing to me. It hasn’t for months. Everything we’ve done together, all of it, it was all real. I want you. I want you so much it hurts,” Sam begged desperately. “Please, don’t cry…”

Finally, Gabriel opened his eyes, but his gaze was blank as he stared at the TV and Sam’s heart sunk lower.

“Did you lose the bet?”

Sam startled at the question, then frowned in confusion. “I don’t… it doesn’t matter.”

“Did you lose the bet?” Gabriel asked, firmer this time.

“I… what does it matter? Whether I won or lost, I’m telling you it doesn’t mean anything to me.”

 _“Did you lose the bet, Sam?”_ Hissed Gabriel and Sam tensed at the tone, skin prickling uncomfortably.

“…Why does it matter?”

“IT MATTERS!” Gabriel roared, whipping onto his other side to face Sam. His gaze blazed with fury and agony and betrayal as he tore Sam’s arm off his waist and threw it away as though it was diseased. Sam wanted to reach out, gather him into his arms and beg for his forgiveness, but Gabriel wasn’t finished. 

“If you won, maybe, just maybe I could believe that you’re lying beside me right now because you genuinely want to be with me,” Gabriel spat, venom dripping from every word. “But if you tell me you lost…” His voice cracked and his body began to tremble. “If you tell me you lost, then how will I ever truly know if any of this is real? How do I know that when I fall completely for you… you won’t dump me on your graduation day? How could I ever trust that you’re not just completing the terms of agreement for your bet? Counting down the days until you can finally escape from the disgusting, disappointing little pedo that I am?” Gabriel choked out, closing his eyes as he tried to hold back the tears. They still fell.

Sam could barely breathe. “You’re not- ”

“Answer the damn question, Sam!”

Sam stared at the eyes that, just this afternoon, had held so much warmth and tenderness. Now they were clouded with anger and pain.

“…I lost.”

Gabriel’s expression crumpled with grief and more tears fell and this time, he couldn’t hold back the sob that ripped from his throat and bounced off the walls of the too quiet suite. The haunting sound burst from him again and he dropped his head, shoulders shaking slightly before he clenched his fists and abruptly rolled to his feet. He scrubbed the tears from his face and straightened, glancing towards the door and starting towards it.

Panicking, Sam surged upright and clutched at his jacket. “Gabriel! Wait!”

He recoiled when Gabriel slapped his hand hard enough to sting. He took another step towards the door, but Sam stood and grabbed him again, resulting in another slap and then a harsh shove at his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Gabriel snarled. “How long were you going to keep it a secret?!”

“I don’t know,” Sam whimpered, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I didn’t… I was afraid of losing you!”

Gabriel scoffed and moved towards the door again, but Sam caught his wrist and Gabriel whirled on him with a growl.

“Let me go!”

“Please, don’t do this! Don’t leave!”

“So you can complete the terms of your bet?” Gabriel bit out, angry tears dripping onto the carpet. “So you can keep using me? So you can break my heart once college is over?”

“I’m not using you,” insisted Sam, his own tears prickling his cheeks as they fell. “I forgot about the bet! I haven’t acted on it for months. Everything I’ve done or said to you… it’s all real, Gabe. All of it. You mean so much to me. I…” _Three words. Just say those three words._ “…I can’t lose you. Not over this. Not over a stupid bet I made in October when I didn’t even know you.”

Gabriel’s eyes were red and he furiously scrubbed more tears away. “I can’t trust you!” He yelled, but it sounded desperate and broken and he looked as though he was about to collapse with grief. “…Why didn’t you tell me?” This time, his voice was hushed and cracked and Sam suddenly realised what his actual mistake was. 

Gabriel felt betrayed. If Sam had told him about the bet himself, Gabriel would have been angry but they could have tried to talk things through and at least Gabriel would have been confident that Sam wanted him enough to admit that he’d made the horrible bet in the first place. As it was, Gabriel had heard about the bet from his brothers; two people who actively sought out ways to make his life miserable. To Gabriel, Sam had been hiding the bet and people who hid things were usually guilty of something.

“I wanted to,” whispered Sam. “I wanted to tell you everything, but I… I got scared. Didn’t help that I couldn’t even remember the damn thing for a while.” He took a step forwards, slowly reaching out to Gabriel. He wanted to soothe the torment in his gaze, the tension in his muscles. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I figured that since I wasn’t acting on the bet anymore, that it didn’t matter. I was afraid of losing you over something I didn’t even care about.” He reached for Gabriel’s arm but sagged when the older man backed away from his hand.

“The journal you threw away… was that the one that held the contract?” Gabriel asked, stiff and quiet and eyes pained. “Is that why you wouldn’t let me read it?”

Sam winced guiltily and Gabriel snorted. “So you refused to tell me and then hid the evidence from me? And you only did that once the deadline of the bet had passed and you knew you’d lost? Gotta say, Sam, this doesn’t look promising for me, does it?”

Sam shook his head frantically. “I know what it looks like, but I promise it’s not. Gabriel, everything I do is for you. I chose you over my friends. I gave you a key to the suite because I want you to have a home. I gave you my bed because I hate the idea of you sleeping in that crappy, rat-infested apartment. I invited you to my house for Christmas because I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“You incorporated me into a losing bet with your brother because I’m that repulsive that you’d never dream of anyone voluntarily dating me. You only invited me over so I would teach you how to cook. You mocked me for your first year of University and poured an entire carton of milk over my head when I so much as spoke to you. You only let me sleep over because you pitied me when you saw my apartment. You were embarrassed of me when we first met. You told your friends I was your personal cook. You hid the book that explained what this relationship is really about,” growled Gabriel. “You made sure I would never find out what I actually mean to you.”

“Gabriel, no- ”

“I’m tired of being hurt by you, Sam!” Snapped Gabriel. “You think you’re better than me? Fine! Maybe you are. You’re smarter and wealthier and better looking and everyone thinks you’re so well-spoken and polite.” He shook his head. “I should have known this wasn’t real. I should have known you’d never want someone like me.” He narrowed his gaze, mouth forming a thin line. “But at least I’m not cruel.”

He turned on his heel and strode towards the door, barely keeping his head up and as he reached the handle, Sam flung himself into action, fear lighting every nerve. He grabbed Gabriel’s arm and swung him around, keeping a tight grip on him even as Gabriel shouted in protest and tried to escape.

“I’m sorry,” Sam pleaded. “I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry for all the times I’ve made you feel like crap. I’m sorry for hiding the book from you and for not telling you about the bet. I’m sorry you had to hear it from your brothers. But I’m not sorry for all the times I kissed you. I’m not sorry for all the times I held you and told you how amazing and beautiful and funny and intelligent you are. I’m not sorry for all the times we watched a movie together or played a game or went for walks or even just read in each other’s company. I’m not sorry for all the fun we've had or the times we took care of each other. I’m not sorry for all the sex and the cuddling afterwards or the nights we would talk for hours on end just because we could. I’m not sorry for any of that because I…” _Three words. Just tell him._ “Because I like being with you.” _Idiot._

Gabriel’s face twisted then fell and he stared at the floor for a moment before finally looking up at Sam with the most broken and lost and agonised expression Sam had ever seen him wear.

“Then why didn’t you tell me about the bet?” Gabriel whimpered.

Sam deflated. He’d really hurt Gabriel this time. “I was… I was afraid.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I can’t trust you,” he whispered. He pushed at Sam’s chest and the taller man fell away, his heart cracking.

“Gabe, don’t- ”

“We’re done,” Gabriel murmured.

Sam’s heart shattered and his lips parted in shock. “You don’t mean that,” He breathed. “You can’t. We were happy! We were happy together! Don’t you get it? You’re not just a bet to me! You’re my everything!”

Gabriel shook his head again. “If I don’t end things, I’ll never know if you’re not just going to dump me when you graduate. I’ll always be worried about it. I’ll always be wondering if anything you say to me is a way to keep me with you so you can fulfil your bet. I’ll be counting down the days until your graduation, anticipating the moment you tell me it’s over.” He was crying again and this time the tears were fast and unhindered.

“But that day will never come,” Sam choked out. “I would never do that to you.”

“But I don’t know that,” Gabriel insisted frustratedly. “I can’t be looking over my shoulder for three years, wondering when you’ll tell me we’re through. Even if that day never comes… I’ll have lost three years. Three years of doubting every kiss, every hug, every word that comes out of your mouth. Sex would feel fake, I wouldn’t believe a single smile… and I wouldn’t be able to do any of it back to you. I would never kiss you or hold you or tell you how much I love being with you, because I wouldn’t. It would feel like torture and I wouldn’t be able to trust you for three years. I can’t live like that, Sam. I can’t live in a constant state of fear.”

Sam’s chest was on fire with agony. “Don’t leave,” he begged. “Please, don’t leave me. Let me prove that I…” He still couldn’t say those stupid little words.

Gabriel noticed the hesitancy and he closed his eyes and shook his head, disappointment clear on his face. 

“We’re done here,” he whispered.

With that, he turned to the door and slipped out of it, closing it gently behind him and leaving Sam to stare at the handle as he felt his whole world fall apart.

The room tilted to the left and Sam suddenly found himself on the floor, back against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees and head buried into them as his throat grew raw from sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In light of recent news about the show, have this incredibly delightful chapter ;)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief warning for one homophobic slur.

Castiel opened his eyes slowly, trying to acclimatise to the early morning light filtering through the curtains. He reached over and blindly groped around his bedside table for his phone, cracking one eye open blearily to check the time. An hour left before his alarm set off. 

He closed his eyes again and dumped his phone on the table with a soft groan. The one time his lecturer had cancelled the first two morning lectures and he had woken up early. He shoved his face into his pillow and tried to convince his brain to sleep.

Arms slipped around his waist and stomach and a body plastered itself against his back. Castiel smiled when tiny kisses were peppered over his neck and shoulders. He relaxed into the warmth behind him, sighing contentedly at the strong arms holding him.

No words were exchanged as Dean mouthed gentle kisses over Castiel’s skin and Cas was content to let his lover lavish him with attention. He laced his fingers with the ones Dean had splayed over his stomach and tilted his head to give his boyfriend better access to his neck. They awoke slowly, lazily and Castiel found himself smiling after a few long minutes of affectionate kisses. Eventually, Dean nuzzled his neck and hummed.

“Coffee?” He mumbled in question, already knowing the answer.

Castiel made a vague sound of approval and held Dean’s hand tighter, leaning into him happily. Dean huffed in amusement and kissed his shoulder again.

“Have to let me get up.”

Cas grumbled and trapped Dean’s hand against his chest instead, closing his eyes once more. Dean chuckled and tugged him close, nuzzling into his shoulder lazily.

“You can’t keep me here and have coffee as well,” Dean commented and Castiel briefly entertained the idea of a morning without coffee in favour of Dean spooning him, but eventually his craving for caffeine proved too great and he reluctantly let go of Dean.

“Hurry,” he grumbled and Dean chuckled and rolled out of bed, scanning the room for wherever he’d thrown his boxers the previous evening. 

Cas huffed as his own boxers sailed through the air and smacked against his face. He offered his laughing boyfriend a middle finger, but pouted when the room fell silent as Dean left. He plucked his sleeping boxers off his head and gazed at them for a moment before tugging them on. They had only been worn for ten minutes last night before Dean had decided to get frisky and Cas found a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs that Dean had bought him as a gag present once.

They had decided to go to Castiel’s house in order to give Sam and Gabriel some alone time. They had assumed the pair would appreciate some time together since Gabriel’s brothers had been ridiculing him for the past week or so. Not to mention that since Crowley was apparently away for a few days, Cas and Dean could spend some quality time together as well and Castiel was definitely up for that.

He stretched and nosed at his pillow, relishing the idea of having a whole hour to cuddle with Dean (even if his boyfriend would never call it that). This morning was shaping up to be one of his favourites.

His phone vibrated loudly on the table; a short sound that indicated he had a text message. He eyed the device balefully but eventually mustered up the willpower to drag it onto the bed and unlock it whilst lying on his side. He was mildly surprised to find the message was sent by Gabriel. They texted every once in a while, but it wasn’t particularly common.

He opened the message with a shrug.

 

* * *

 

Dean whistled something of _Metallica_ ’s as he trotted up the stairs, one white and one black coffee in his grip. He slid into Cas’ bedroom and nudged the door closed, a cheerful smile lighting his face as he neared the bed. Today felt like it was going to be a good day, especially now that he had Cas to himself for a whole hour. 

He placed the white coffee down on the table closest to his side of the bed and rounded the other to offer the remaining cup to Castiel, who was now perched on the edge of the bed, sitting upright and frowning at his phone. Dean cocked an eyebrow when Cas didn’t take the cup and placed it on his table instead.

“You okay, Angel?” Dean hummed, coming to sit beside his lover, just to be close to him. Cas always smelled so good, even when he’d just climbed out of bed.

Cas didn’t reply, still staring at his phone. This time, Dean frowned worriedly. “Cas? Is everything okay? What’s happened?”

Wordlessly, Cas offered him the phone, refusing to look at him. Confused, Dean took the device and glanced at the message Gabriel had apparently sent him a mere few minutes ago.

_**Dean made a bet in October that he could get you to sleep with him by 11/28/19. Since he won, apparently Sam’s forfeit is to date me until the end of college. Only found out last night because they threw out Dean’s ‘bet’ journal so we couldn’t read it. Heard about it all through my brothers. Winchesters were never going to tell us. Call me if you need someone to talk to. Sorry, Cas. We’ve been used.** _

Dean had never felt the sort of panic that gripped him in that moment; the kind of fear and dread and anxiety that drowned him and made his heart beat faster and his chest ache in a type of grief he didn’t even understand. Even when his father had hit him and told him how disappointed he was in him… it was nothing compared to the budding horror and anticipation he was experiencing now.

“Is that true?” Asked Castiel quietly, finally turning that electric blue gaze on him and Dean though he caught a flash of pain behind those eyes.

He couldn’t lie. He could never lie to Cas. 

“For the first couple of weeks we started talking? Definitely not by the fourth, or the weeks after,” Dean whispered, chest tight when Castiel dropped his gaze to the floor, shoulders bunched up and head low. Dean couldn’t stand to see him like that.

“I promise, Cas, when we were in that hot tub… that wasn’t a bet. Inviting you and the others over… none of that was a bet. Kissing you, holding you, sex… that stuff was never part of any bet. It stopped being a bet the moment you chose to be my friend. I haven’t even thought about that stupid bet since long before we got together. It was a horrible thing to do and Sam and I shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t have made the thing in the first place.” Dean was rushing everything out too fast and desperate. He realised he was afraid.

Cas said nothing.

Dean swallowed and placed a hand on the other man’s leg. “Please believe me. You’re not a bet, Cas. You mean the world to me. It may be why I first started talking to you, but I promise I’ve changed. I didn’t kiss you back because of a ridiculous bet. I kissed you back because I genuinely like you. I love being with you. I love talking to you and listening to you play the piano and going on dates with you. I love everything we do together.”

Castiel remained silent and Dean swallowed thickly. “Cas, please… I know I should have told you but… I was scared of losing you. And I forgot about the damn thing for so long that when I finally remembered it, it didn’t seem important.” Dean gently squeezed Cas’ leg. “You mean so much more to me than some stupid bet. You’re my best friend.”

Castiel straightened but he didn’t look at Dean and something about his expression was off. He was hiding his pain behind a faked neutral expression and Dean suddenly felt worse. He didn’t want his lover to hide his hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Dean murmured sincerely. “I’m so sorry, Cas. I never meant to hurt you like this. If there’s any way I can fix things…”

“There’s nothing to fix,” Castiel said eventually, voice a lot stronger than Dean had expected. “I understand.”

Dean’s eyebrows rocketed skywards and he suddenly felt hopeful. “…Seriously? You’re not angry with me?” 

Castiel scoffed and leaned back on his hands. “If anything, I’m angry with myself.”

Dread sunk into his bones again and Dean frowned in confusion. “…Why are you angry with yourself?”

Castiel shook his head bitterly. “For forgetting myself. For a little while, I thought you- ” He cut himself off abruptly and shook his head again with a snort. Then he flicked his cool gaze to Dean and Dean’s heart sunk at the swirl of emotions he caught in his eyes; pain, grief, anger, self-loathing and many more that Dean didn’t have time to dissect before Castiel was talking again.

“Honestly, I’m rather surprised you’re still finding me interesting. As far as I’m aware, you don’t usually stay with your ‘conquests’ for more than two months, correct? Usually far less. I am curious as to what’s making you keep me around. The sex can’t be that good.” Castiel shrugged nonchalantly. “Unless there’s more to the bet?”

Dean’s panic and fear was quickly replaced by offence and indignation. “Wait, you thinking I’m keeping you around for _sex_?”

Castiel shrugged again. “I’m not certain, but I can’t think of any other reasons why you would want to continue our interactions for this long. Unless, as I said, there’s more to the bet than Gabriel has found out?”

Dean clenched his fists. “Didn’t you hear a word I just said? You’re not part of a bet, Cas.”

“Yet, you managed to sleep with me before the deadline,” said Castiel drily and with a narrowed gaze. “And Sam is still in a relationship with Gabriel. Or was. I don’t suppose Gabriel likes being a forfeit.”

Dean stiffened. “Are you serious? You think I was trying to get you into bed before a deadline? _You_ kissed me!”

Castiel smiled ruefully. “You’re quite correct. A lapse on my part. I should’ve remembered whom I was dealing with.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean bit out, shuffling away from Castiel with a thick scowl.

“Well, as I’ve been informed on multiple occasions by various people, you’re a charmer. You lull your victims into thinking you’re exactly the type of person they want. You alter your actions and character to suit the person you’re pursuing and eventually, they’re won over by you. It’s why no one ever says 'no' to sex with you. Not even me, apparently,” Castiel commented disinterestedly, as though he hadn’t just torn Dean’s heart into tiny pieces and scattered them in the wind.

“Congratulations,” Castiel continued as he rose to his feet. “Another conquest to add to your list. At least the sex was great, if nothing else. I hope you got something good out of winning your bet.”

Dean leapt to his feet and grabbed Castiel’s arm, whirling him around when the other man tried to walk away. Dean’s gaze was like fire as he glared at his supposed lover.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” he snarled. “Not after sprouting all that crap. I’m not using you for sex and you damn well know it!”

Castiel’s gaze turned furious as he snatched his arm from Dean’s grip. “Actually, I don’t know that. In fact, I see no reason why you’d be here for anything else. After all, it’s how you treated Balthazar. It’s how you treat everyone you ever meet! Why should I be the exception?” He turned his back on Dean again but Dean grabbed him once more and forced him to face him.

“I gave up everything for you!” Dean snapped, knuckles white. “I gave up my friends for you! I let myself be humiliated and degraded by your friends! I began paying attention in class and working hard to show you that I’d changed! I stopped trying to make you sleep with me and started trying to become your friend to show you that I wasn’t the same person! I apologised to Balthazar and I’m still apologising to everyone I’ve ever hurt! I opened up to you; told you about my crappy family! Heck, I tried to make you reconcile with your step-father because I _care_ about you! And now you’re telling me I only did that stuff so you’d sleep with me? Get your head out of your ass!”

Castiel’s gaze was icy, his jaw set. “Isn’t that what you do? Change your personality and actions to win over the person you wish to pursue? It’s how you won over Balthazar. It seems to have worked on me too.”

Dean grit his teeth. “I changed for you. I did everything you asked and more. I tried to prove to you that I was different because I thought you were special. I thought you were the only person to ever actually give a damn about me. Turns out I was wrong and you’re exactly like everyone else.”

Castiel practically snarled. “I did care. Then I found out I was another one of your pathetic wagers. Now I realise where I really stand.”

“You’re not a bet!” Yelled Dean. Castiel didn’t even flinch. He tilted his chin in defiance.

“Then why does everyone else seem to think otherwise?” Hissed Castiel, gesturing to his phone. “Just move onto your next target and let us end this farce. You’ve not changed. You’re still the same selfish playboy you’ve always been. Go find someone new to screw and stay away from me.”

He managed to make it three steps before Dean pounced on him and gripped his wrist so tightly it hurt.

“Do you know how many people harass me on a weekly basis?” Dean whispered heatedly. “Do you know how many guys stick their hands down my pants or how many girls slap me every week? Do you know how many people ridicule me because I refuse to sleep with them? Do you know why they do that?”

Castiel’s gaze was hard and defiant and Dean sneered. “Because they all think I’m a selfish playboy who’s just looking for someone new to screw. Congratulations, Cas. You’ve just proved you're exactly like everybody else.”

Castiel snatched his hand from Dean’s hold and backed up. “Then go and screw them!” This time, there was clear pain in his eyes, swirling with the hot anger and betrayal.

“I don’t want them!” Snarled Dean. “I want you! I want someone who gives a crap about me! Someone I can trust!”

“Why should I give you all that when you can’t return the favour?” Growled Castiel. “You couldn’t even admit that you made a bet about me! I had to hear it four months after the deadline, via a text from Gabriel! How can I ever trust you?”

“I messed up!” Shouted Dean, the grief beginning to hit him as he realised he’d lost Castiel. “I’m sorry, okay? I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have,” bit out Castiel, but Dean could hear the shake in his voice, the anguish in his tone.

A tense silence filled the room as they stared at one another, the emotion thick in the air. Castiel looked away first.

“I think you need to leave.”

Dean deflated. “Cas…”

“Go, Dean. I’m just another tally in your book.”

Dean stiffened again. “You really believe that?” He demanded.

Castiel snorted bitterly. “Don’t we all?”

Dean clenched his jaw. “Screw you.”

“You already did,” sneered Castiel. “Get out of my house.”

Dean collected his clothes, rage and betrayal and agony rolling off him in waves. If Castiel noticed, he didn’t care and he didn’t watch as Dean roughly pulled his jeans on. Once he was dressed, he stormed towards the door, but paused at the handle and turned to Castiel, who finally flicked his impatient gaze to him.

“You know,” said Dean firmly, “when we woke up this morning, I thought I loved you.” 

Then he marched out of the door and slammed it shut, trying not to dwell on Castiel’s wide-eyed, stunned staring and his parted lips as he left.

If Castiel thought Dean hadn’t changed, then Dean would treat him like every other partner he’d broken up with.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel stared at the wonky mess in front of him. It was supposed to be a lemon meringue pie, but it looked more like the Leaning Tower of Pisa had flooded with yellow cream and was about to crumble and disintegrate. He couldn’t remember messing up this badly in class before. 

It didn’t matter. It was still a pie and he was pretty sure that Dean would-

He squeezed his eyes shut and counted to five. Right. He was going to his apartment tonight. And tomorrow. And the next night and all of the nights following. No more suite. No more Winchesters.

He swiped at a tear sliding down his cheek.

“What’s that supposed to be?” Frowned Asmodeus, nodding to his little Tower of Pisa.

“Um… lemon meringue pie?” Gabriel tried, wincing at his professor’s scoff. 

“It looks awful. What did you do? Throw a rolling pin at it?”

Gabriel sagged. “I… ah… I’m not sure.” There had been many mistakes actually, including wrong consistencies, low temperatures and short cooking times. It was a disaster.

“Well, I can safely say it’s the worst thing in this room,” Asmodeus stated cheerfully before moving on to the next student.

Gabriel closed his eyes with a sigh. He was so exhausted. He’d cried all night yesterday after walking the four-hour journey home and hadn’t got a wink of sleep. His eyes pricked from sobbing and his throat was sore and he probably looked like he’d been pepper-sprayed in the face. He wanted Sam to hold him and tell him they could sort this out but the truth was, they couldn’t because Gabriel couldn’t trust him and he wasn’t entirely sure if Sam was still sticking to the bet.

More tears dribbled down his cheeks and Gabriel bit back another sigh. He’d thought he’d cried himself dry, but apparently there was still some left in him.

Asmodeus dismissed them and Gabriel dipped a finger in his pie and wrinkled his nose. It tasted like his out-of-date high school canteen food. He dumped it the first chance he got and made his way out of the room.

Only to come face-to-face with his smirking brothers, who were supposed to be going home in an hour.

“Gabe! You’re looking great,” grinned Lucifer.

Gabriel narrowed his reddened eyes and merely walked away, dragging his cooking equipment with him.

“So… did you ask Sam about the bet?” Asked Michael with a smug smirk.

Gabriel walked on silently, shoving through the building’s exit and ignoring his brothers trailing after him.

“What did he say?” Asked Lucifer, enjoying himself. “Did you two have an argument?”

Gabriel turned left instead of right. He wanted to go home. He was going to skip his last lectures. He wondered if he had a tin of soup or some beans in his cupboard. Probably not. He hadn’t been there for months. He barely had any money either, so he’d have to choose whether he wanted lunch or dinner today. He’d already skipped breakfast.

“Did Sam throw you out or did you just leave?” Asked Michael. “Did he show you the journal? The one with the contract in it?”

Gabriel would have to clear out that dead rat he’d found in the bathroom yesterday. Couldn’t have that rotting and stinking up the place even more.

They walked down a narrow alley between two high brick walls that the sun couldn’t peek over.

Lucifer snickered. “Did you have break-up sex?”

Gabriel suddenly swivelled on his heel and rammed his fist into Lucifer’s jaw so hard that his brother staggered into the wall and smashed his head into it. His jaw looked red and painful and Gabriel didn’t care that his knuckles ached.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Gabriel commented coolly as Lucifer cupped his tender jaw. He flicked his gaze to the shocked Michael. “You’re next if you don’t shut your mouth.”

He knew it was a stupid idea challenging his brothers to a fight, but he needed something to vent his frustrations on and his brothers had been using him as a punching bag for years.

As predicted, his brothers straightened, gazes fiery as they clenched their fists. Gabriel braced himself. 

Michael moved first, swinging his fist into the side of Gabriel’s face and Lucifer was quick to follow, slamming him into the wall and punching his stomach until Gabriel coughed. Gabriel kicked out, smirking as his shoe connected with someone’s shin and Michael hissed before aiming a fist at Gabriel’s nose.

Gabriel lashed out, clawing at whomever was closest and blood trickled down Michael’s face as Gabriel’s nails sliced through his skin. Lucifer kneed his crotch and Gabriel buckled, tumbling to the floor in a heap and groaning in agony when Michael kicked at his ribs. Then Lucifer kicked at his side and he cried out and somehow managed to drag one of them to the floor. Lucifer quickly straddled him, throwing punches hard and fast as Gabriel attempted to retaliate, but Michael kicked his head and he saw spots for a moment before he aimed at kick at Lucifer’s stomach.

Gabriel’s cheeks burned with hot tears and he knew they weren’t from the pain of the fight. His body throbbed but his chest felt like there was a hole in it and he lashed out again, trying desperately to pour all his fury into the fight. Maybe if he hurt his good-for-nothing brothers, the pain would fade.

Lucifer hit his throat and he gagged and coughed up some blood. His brothers hesitated at that and Gabriel scowled.

“Imagine what mother would say if she saw you now,” he whispered. “Her perfect little sons all bruised and bloodied and brawling in some back alley. She’d be ashamed of you,” Gabriel taunted, blood dripping over his lips.

Lucifer snorted. “Not as ashamed as she is of you, little brother. No one will ever top you as the disappointment of the family.”

Gabriel’s tears fell quicker and he swung up at Lucifer’s face, making his brother grunt. Michael stamped on his other hand and Gabriel yelped.

Lucifer leaned close beside his ear. “You’ll always be a worthless little fag. And now, not even Sam wants you.”

Gabriel quickly lost the will to fight as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to sob in front of his brothers. Lucifer punched his stomach one last time for good measure, then he stood and walked away with Michael, leaving Gabriel bleeding and broken on the cold floor.

Gabriel sobbed himself hoarse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another happy chapter! ;)


	29. Chapter 29

“Hey, Cas. Everything okay? Didn’t see you at all yesterday,” greeted Meg as Castiel slid into the booth. He offered her a tired look and pulled out his notepad, not feeling up to lunch today. Meg blinked at the exhaustion under his eyes and tilted her head in a way she’d probably learned from him.

“Woah… you look like you could do with a ten-hour nap,” she said.

Balthazar chuckled. “Let me guess, you and Dean got up to some fun yesterday? Did he wear you out?” He winked, only to frown when Cas stared at him blankly.

“…Is everything alright, Castiel?” Asked Gadreel concernedly. 

Castiel sighed and nodded. “Everything’s fine,” he murmured even though he’d worked his way through a whole box of tissues the previous evening and not gone to any of his lectures because he couldn’t muster the strength to leave his room. 

“I call bullshit,” scowled Meg. “What’s up, Cas? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were moping, but you never mope.”

“I’m fine,” grumbled Castiel. “Just tired. I have some lecture notes to catch up on.” He began scribbling some solutions to his earlier questions and only realised it was entirely wrong when he came up with a negative distance. He closed his eyes and bit back a growl.

“Oh, hey! Dean!” Grinned Hannah as she waved a container of homemade pie around. She frowned when Dean’s gaze flicked briefly to Castiel before he stopped and turned to an empty table, settling into it with an unhappy expression.

“…What’s wrong with Dean?” Hannah asked quietly, sounding genuinely disappointed.

Castiel’s frown deepened as he scribbled out his workings and Balthazar stared at him.

“Did you two have an argument?”

Castiel tensed for a moment before shrugging. “Something like that.” He pretended to be interested in solving his problem. Unfortunately, Balthazar saw through him.

“Any chance of it being resolved any time soon?” He asked, eyes narrowed as though he already knew the answer. The others stared between them in confusion.

Castiel scoffed bitterly. “This isn’t exactly something that gets fixed.”

Gadreel, Hannah and Meg looked shocked and maybe a little worried as they glanced over at Dean, but Balthazar merely crossed his arms and frowned.

“Spill.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Balthazar,” Castiel grumbled. “Drop it.”

Balthazar’s mouth drew downwards. “I love you, Cassie, but sometimes you can be a stubborn pain in the derrière. Now, explain. What’s happened between you and Dean?”

“I just said I don’t want to talk about it,” Castiel grated out, but Balthazar didn’t look impressed.

“Last time we saw you two, you were sickeningly adorable together and I wanted to scoop out my own eyeballs. Now you’re acting as though he’s got the plague. What gives? What can you have possibly argued about that can’t be fixed?”

Castiel shot him a withering glare but when he didn’t back down, he sighed quietly and doodled aimlessly on his page. “You were right. All of you. I was nothing more than another one of his bets. A conquest with a deadline.”

Everyone fell silent, staring at Castiel in shock and Cas laughed bitterly.

“The worst part is he didn’t even tell me. I heard it from Gabriel through a text. Turns out he was part of the bet too. A forfeit for Sam if Dean managed to screw me by the end of November.”

When no one interrupted, Castiel continued, eyes glued to his page. “I want to say I’m not surprised. After all, I knew Dean started to talking to me so he could sleep with me. But then he began to change and I thought… He seemed so different and these past few months have shown me a different side of him. I thought he…” Castiel shook his head. “I was stupid and naïve. I should have paid attention to your warnings. Dean hasn’t changed. He’ll never change. I just got sucked into his game.”

There was a moment of quiet before Balthazar frowned. “Dean was using you as part of a bet?”

Castiel nodded tiredly. Balthazar scrunched his nose up.

“…Are we talking about the same Dean here? _Dean Winchester?_ The guy in the leather jacket who’s _in love_ with you?”

Castiel’s head snapped up and he stared at Balthazar, stunned. “Excuse me?”

Balthazar pulled a face. “You honestly believe Dean Winchester saw you as nothing more than a bet? Maybe it started off that way, but if you think these last few months have been a bet, then I’d suggest a trip to the opticians. Or maybe a mental health hospital.” Balthazar shook his head. “I’ve never seen Dean fall for anyone, but you’ve somehow managed to make him do exactly that. The way I see it, Dean stopped treating you as a bet the moment you kissed him. Probably long before that, actually.”

Castiel straightened. “How can you possibly claim to know that?”

Balthazar smiled. “Cassie… have you seen the way he looks at you? Have you seen the way he lights up when you walk into the room? Have you heard the way he talks about you? That man is absolutely in love with you. How can you possibly think you’re just a bet to him?”

“Then why didn’t he tell me?” Insisted Castiel. “Why didn’t he confess that he’d made a bet? Why hide it?”

“He was probably afraid of losing you,” replied Gadreel softly. “He was probably terrified of how you’d react.”

Balthazar snorted. “Yeah, he was probably afraid that you’d fight about it, accuse him of being the same person he was when he first started talking to you, then leave him without considering the fact that he regrets making the bet because he’s fallen head over heels for you.” Balthazar cocked an eyebrow. “Kind of like how you’ve just reacted.”

Castiel’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Right, because you weren’t upset when you found out you were just a bet to him.” It was a low blow, but Castiel was too irritated to care.

Balthazar pulled a sour face before waving his hand dismissively. “Different circumstances. Dean wasn’t in love with me.”

Castiel scoffed and dropped his gaze, sick of the conversation. “We’re over,” he muttered. “And that’s the end of it.”

Gadreel, Hannah and Meg deflated, looking at one another sadly, but Balthazar, if anything, seemed angry. He leaned across the table, fiery determination in his eyes.

“No. You don’t just give up on him like that. You have one silly little argument and you suddenly break up with him? You’re not even going to try to talk things out? Have these past four months meant nothing to you?” Balthazar shook his head in disappointment. “I know you’re feeling upset and betrayed right now, but take a look at Dean over there. He’s utterly miserable and completely alone. You’re not the only one who feels like his heart has just been ripped out. You’ve hurt him, Cassie. Do you really think you’d be able to hurt him if he didn’t care about you?”

Castiel whipped his gaze up to Balthazar, fury dancing behind his eyes. “You’re accusing me of hurting him? I’ve just told you he used me as a bet and you have the gall to claim that I’m at fault?”

“I never said that. You’re both at fault,” scowled Balthazar. “He shouldn’t have made the bet, sure, but you shouldn’t have been so quick to write him off as the heartless playboy we all seem so fond of calling him. The second there’s a bump in your relationship, you paint him as the villain and break things off. You’ve not even tried to make amends.”

Castiel tightened his grip on his pen and it nearly cracked beneath his fingers. “Whose side are you on?” He growled. “I thought you were supposed to hate him?”

Balthazar huffed irritably. “I’m not on anyone’s side. I’m just pointing out that you two were happy only a few days ago and I can’t understand why you won’t fight for that. And yes, you’re right. I did hate Dean, but now I’ve warmed to him and do you know why? Because people change.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “The way I see it, Dean loves you and you don’t seem to care at all. If you did, you’d fight for him.”

Castiel scowled defensively. “Why should I fight for him? He’s made it quite clear what he thinks of me.”

“And you’ve made it quite clear what you think of him,” snorted Balthazar. “So why should he fight for you? You were pretty quick to condemn him. Tell a man he’s a monster enough times and he’ll start to believe it.”

Castiel snapped his mouth shut and glared at his page for a moment. “I’m done talking about this. Dean and I are through. If he cared about me, he wouldn’t have made a bet about me.”

Balthazar pursed his lips and looked ready to protest, but Hannah placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and shook her head. Balthazar sighed and slumped against his seat. “Whatever you say, Castiel. It’s your life.”

After a few moments of awkward silence, Meg pulled out her phone. “So, I was thinking of doing one of those escape room thingies. Apparently, there’s one in town…”

Castiel let the conversation drift over his head. He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or disappointed that everyone had given up trying to convince him to talk to Dean.

 

* * *

 

“Sam, are you listening? Morphological diagnosis of case one. Go.”

Sam startled at the professor’s harsh voice. He flicked his eyes to the huge, projected screen and tried to make sense of the mess of tissues. “Um… Moderate, diffuse, pyogranulomatous enteritis of the small intestine?”

He knew he was wrong the moment the other students began whispering amongst themselves and shaking their heads as they pointed at the screen.

“First off, did the patient die?” Snorted his professor and Sam finally noticed the case notes above the image of the tissues and he nodded embarrassedly.

“Then I’d say this is _severe_ , not moderate, wouldn’t you?”

Sam nodded again.

“Secondly, what’s this?” The lecturer pointed to a pink section of intestine on the image.

“Um… ileum?”

“Healthy or affected?”

“…Healthy?”

“Right, so this isn’t diffuse. It’s segmental. Not all of the intestine is affected,” said the lecturer. “Thirdly, what would be present if it was a pyogranuloma?”

Sam’s mind went blank and he shook his head, red colouring his cheeks. He should know this.

“Macrophages!” Someone shouted to his left.

“Correct,” said the professor. “Can you see any evidence of macrophage infiltration or is there just an inflammatory response?”

Sam hunched in on himself. “Just an inflammatory response.”

The professor made an unimpressed sound and moved onto aetiologies and Sam zoned out again. He kept getting everything wrong. He couldn’t focus on his lectures and he hadn’t made any notes for the past three hours. All he could think about was Gabriel and their break-up two days ago. He couldn’t get Gabriel’s betrayed expression and his pained tears out of his mind. He’d hurt Gabriel and he had no idea how to fix things or if they could even be fixed. How did he apologise for using the man he loved as a bet? How could he even begin to tell Gabriel how much he meant to him? What if Gabriel didn’t care? Sam wouldn’t blame him. He would be hurt too if his lover and best friend told him that he was part of a losing bet.

He didn’t know how long he spent thinking about Gabriel, but the next time he raised his gaze, everyone was packing up. His shoulders slumped. It was the end of the day and Gabriel wouldn’t be waiting for him with a kiss and bright smile. Another night alone. Maybe he wouldn’t cry tonight.

He smiled bitterly. He was only lying to himself. Of course he’d cry. He’d lost Gabriel forever and he would never find another person like him; another person who he loved as much as he loved Gabriel. Gabriel had taught him so much… made him laugh and cry and think and taught him to be kind and considerate and loyal to those he cared about, and now he was once again alone. He deserved it. He’d been cruel to the one person who’d wanted him for him and not his wealth or possessions. Gabriel deserved better than him.

He sighed and packed his laptop away before climbing to his feet and shuffling out of the aisle, unaware of the male student watching him with a concerned frown two rows above.

He made it to the stairs before pausing. He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself. He hadn’t seen Gabriel at all since their break-up. Hadn’t checked to see how he was doing, or asked if they could just sit down and talk about what had happened. He’d done nothing but mope around and pity himself. 

Why wasn’t he fighting for Gabriel? Why wasn’t he trying to mend their relationship? Sure, they’d had an argument, but things had probably cooled down now and Gabriel might be more inclined to talk to him. If nothing else, Sam should apologise properly for what he’d done. Gabriel deserved as much.

Head lifting a little higher, Sam trotted down the stairs with renewed determination and headed towards the nutrition department, once again ignorant of the student frowning at him worriedly.

 

* * *

 

After an hour of standing outside the entrance of the nutrition department and another half an hour wandering the library in search of a familiar blond head, Sam realised he’d wasted his time. Gabriel clearly wasn’t in the university.

Still, unwilling to just give up, Sam hopped in his car and drove to Gabriel’s ratty apartment complex. He needed to apologise. Needed to see if there was any hope of them even staying friends.

He slid out of the car and grimaced at the looming dump of a building. It looked worse than last time he’d visited. Somehow more run-down and filthier. A couple were yelling at each other down the street and Sam winced and pushed at the door, pulling a face when it swung open freely. Gabriel wasn’t safe here.

Resolve strengthening, Sam took the stairs two at a time, avoiding the hole in the floorboards on one of the steps. He quickly located Gabriel’s door and hesitated for a second. 

What if Gabriel didn’t want him here? What if he thought Sam was being creepy showing up at his apartment?

With a shake of his head, Sam stepped forwards. He needed to talk to Gabriel. Needed to apologise and tell him he missed him. Needed Gabriel to understand how sorry he was.

He raised his hand and knocked.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel was slumped over his sleeping bag, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his face. He hadn’t been to college today because of all the bruises and swelling from yesterday and the pain was great enough this afternoon to warrant another session with the frozen peas. He had originally thought that Lucifer had broken his nose, but maybe it was just incredibly bruised. His face was in agony and his stomach hurt when he breathed.

He closed his eyes at the relief from the bag of peas and was just dozing off on the hard, wooden floor when a gentle knock sounded at his door. He frowned in confusion for a moment because he didn’t get visitors, then he realised that there were only three people who knew where he lived and he didn’t want to see any of them. He stayed where he was, silent and hoping that whoever was out there would leave him alone.

“Gabriel?” Came Sam’s quiet voice and Gabriel was only slightly relieved that it wasn’t Michael or Lucifer on the other side of the door.

“Gabriel? Are you in there?”

Gabriel stilled, not daring to even move the bag of peas.

There was a sigh and a gentle thunk as Sam presumably rested his head on the flimsy door. “If you’re in there, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making that stupid bet and I’m sorry for not telling you. I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did and I’m sorry for hiding the journal.”

Gabriel frowned, tightening his grip on the peas. Why was Sam doing this? Why couldn’t he just leave him alone? It was hard enough losing him without Sam popping around to remind him of all the good times they’d had together.

“Gabriel please… I just… I just want to talk. I want to apologise and check that you’re okay.”

Ok? How could he be ok? His heart was broken and so was the rest of him after that fight with his brothers. He couldn’t trust the man he loved and he didn’t see the point in going to college anymore. Like his family had always told him, he was a waste of space and a failure. If he died right now, no one would care. No one would even notice.

“I miss you,” breathed Sam after a long stretch of silence. “I miss you so much, it hurts. I can’t focus on anything but you. I just want to see you again.”

Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut, tears dripping over his bruised face. He was beginning to grow accustomed to crying.

“Gabe, please,” Sam begged brokenly. “I need to see you. I need to talk to you. Just open the door.”

Gabriel shook his head silently, despite Sam not being able to see it. He couldn’t let Sam in. If he let the younger man in now, he’d lose his resolve and run into his arms again. He’d only be setting himself up for more heartbreak later on. If Sam broke up with him on his graduation day after Gabriel had given him a second chance… No. He couldn’t go through this again. He would never be able to trust Sam and there was no way he’d live through three years of wondering when everything would fall apart again.

Sam needed to leave.

It was silent for so long that Gabriel wasn’t sure if Sam had already left and his heart ached even more.

“I don’t even know if you’re in there,” whispered Sam. “Maybe I’m talking to myself.”

He sounded lost and despairing and Gabriel didn’t know why he did it, but he sat upright and began to crawl over to the door quietly, leaning against it and closing his eyes, imagining Sam was doing the same on the other side. He just wanted to feel Sam’s arms around him one last time.

“I’m sorry,” Sam murmured again. “I’m sorry I did this to us.” There was some creaking and a drag of material on wood and Gabriel realised Sam had slid down the door and was now on the grotty floor, leaning against the door heavily. If he listened carefully, he could hear Sam’s shaky breaths. It made his tears fall quicker and he placed a hand against the door, wishing it wasn’t just cool wood beneath his fingertips.

“Please open the door,” Sam whispered. “Or just give me a sign that you’re in there. Anything. Please show me you’re safe.”

Gabriel remained silent.

“Gabriel,” Sam choked, a quiet sob leaving his throat.

Gabriel’s heart was breaking even more and he didn’t know how that was possible. He wanted to believe Sam wouldn’t use him. He wanted to believe Sam was telling the truth about the bet; that he didn’t consider Gabriel part of the losing clause. He wanted to open that door and tell Sam everything was ok, that they could go back to the way they were, that they could put this argument behind them. But he held back because although Sam was crying, he still hadn’t told Gabriel about the bet and it didn’t sound as if he’d had any intention to, which meant Sam didn’t trust him and therefore, Gabriel couldn’t trust Sam.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without you,” Sam whimpered. “I can’t…” He trailed off and Gabriel swallowed thickly. He couldn’t keep listening to this. It was too painful. Sam needed to go.

“Please talk to me.” Sam was crying now, it was obvious by the quiver in his voice and the stuttered breaths. “Just open the door and show me that you’re okay.”

Gabriel swiped furiously at his tears. He couldn’t let Sam in. Could never let him in again.

“Gabe,” Sam mumbled to himself. “I love you so much. I’ll always love you, even if you don’t want me.”

Gabriel couldn’t breathe. Without thinking, he reached for the door handle and pushed it down, his other hand hovering over the lock as Sam fell silent. He hesitated for a few moments before slowly letting go of the handle and pressing his head against the door. He watched the handle turn as Sam tested it, but when the door remained locked, the younger man let out a wrecked sob.

“Gabriel,” he pleaded, now that he knew Gabriel was listening. “Open the door. Let’s talk about this. We can fix this. Just tell me how to make it up to you. Tell me how to prove myself to you.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Some things can’t be fixed,” he whispered hoarsely. “You need to leave.”

“There’s always a way,” Sam said desperately. “We can work it out. Please, don’t make me lose you. Don’t… don’t give up on me. I love you. I want to fight for us.”

Gabriel clenched his fist against the door. “Don’t say that,” he whimpered. “Don’t say you love me when you don’t even trust me. That’s not how love works.”

“I do trust you,” said Sam frantically. “I trust you more than anyone else I know. Open the door, Gabe. Let’s talk about this and I’ll explain everything. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I’ll prove that I love you, that I trust you.”

Gabriel shook his head again and stood. Sam wasn’t going to let this go unless Gabriel showed him how he felt. So, he opened the door and watched Sam scramble to his feet hopefully, before his face fell and his eyes widened in horror at Gabriel’s battered body. Gabriel let him take a good long look at his bruises and gashes and his gaze filled with agony and betrayal and grief. Sam winced at the emotions dancing behind his eyes and opened his mouth only to snap it shut again.

“Leave me alone, Sam,” Gabriel whispered, unable to look at his ex for more than a minute. His throat constricted. _Ex._ Sam was his _ex._ He couldn’t deal with those sorts of thoughts.

“Gabe, who… what…?” Sam couldn’t string a sentence together and his voice shook with emotion as he took in the damage to Gabriel’s frame.

“Go away,” snapped Gabriel, finally losing his patience. “We’re finished, alright?”

Sam recoiled, stunned and Gabriel slammed the door in his face, then slid down it in exhaustion. 

When Sam’s footsteps faded into nothing down the hallway, Gabriel let his head fall into his arms and didn’t even attempt to stop his silent tears.

 

* * *

 

Dean’s feet pounded the grass, muscles shaking with every heavy step as he focused on the track ahead of him. He wasn’t usually a fan of running, but the physical activity was exactly what he needed to keep his mind off blue eyes and a deep, gravelly voice. He breathed raggedly as he lapped the track again and his muscles ached, but he didn’t care because he needed the distraction. He ran and ran until the coach signalled the end of the session and Dean doubled over, hands braced on his knees as he panted loudly.

He was still angry, still devastated and heartbroken, but he welcomed the ache in his body because physical pain was a refreshing change compared to the emotional and mental pain that he’d been suffering through these last three days. He clenched his jaw. Three whole days since their big fall-out. 

He straightened and considered doing another lap but eventually decided that it wouldn’t distract him from his thoughts for long. He should pack up, shower and prepare for his next lecture in an hour.

With a sigh, he ambled towards the changing rooms and tried not to think about Castiel. He failed miserably and wondered how he and Castiel had fallen apart so terribly. They had been happy and suddenly, it was like a rug had been ripped out from under them and then they were yelling at each other and saying they couldn’t trust one another.

Dean wasn’t a fool and he wasn’t egotistical enough to believe that he was an innocent party. He knew he should have told Castiel about the bet and he understood why his boyfriend (well, _ex_ -boyfriend, he thought miserably) was upset about him hiding something so important. However, if Castiel had taught him anything, ironically it was that he shouldn’t blame himself for every single thing that went wrong in his life. His actions may have started the argument, but Castiel stating that Dean had never changed and that the only reason they were together was because of purely sexual motives made Dean furious. After everything Dean had done, all the things Cas had seen… how could he possibly think that Dean only wanted him for his body? How could he say that Dean was the same selfish, thoughtless philanderer he had been all that time ago? How much more did he have to prove himself?

He shook his head angrily. He needed to get Castiel out of his mind. They were finished with one another and they would never become what Dean had wanted them to. If he ignored his feelings for Cas, eventually they’d vanish into nothing and it would be like they never meant anything to one another in the first place. 

Dean took a shaky breath at the thought but ploughed onwards. The sooner he forgot about Cas, the better.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted one of the hot hockey players gazing at him. Dean recognised her as Rhonda Hurley. She was a brunette with big brown eyes and plush lips and she knew that all the guys lusted after her. A few girls probably wouldn’t mind her attention either.

When she realised she’d been caught staring, she offered him a slow smirk and a wink. Beside her, a slim, black-haired woman raked her gaze over Dean and then, with a smile, leaned over to whisper to Rhonda. Dean was almost certain that her name was Eve.

His eyes widened when Rhonda suddenly chuckled and, ensuring Dean was watching her, turned to Eve and sealed their mouths together in a heated, messy kiss. 

A few students cheered or catcalled them as their kiss dragged on, but when the two women broke apart, they gazed at Dean hungrily, silently inviting him to join them for some fun. Briefly, sparkling blue eyes and a shy, chapped-lipped smile invaded Dean’s thoughts, but he brushed the image away quickly. Castiel had made it clear he didn’t want Dean.

So, with a charming smirk and an approving raise of his eyebrows, Dean headed into the changing room for a quick shower, knowing he would probably miss his next lecture.

 

* * *

 

By the time everyone had filtered out of the changing rooms, leaving Dean as the sole occupancy, Castiel’s betrayed expression had already entered his mind four times. Each time it had been a little harder to rid himself of the image, but he managed and attempted to convince himself that fooling around with Rhonda and Eve was the best way to force himself to accept that his relationship with Castiel was over. He busied himself with trying to style his hair into something a little less untidy but not too innocent and he undid the top two buttons of his shirt. He hadn’t bothered with his belt because he assumed it wouldn’t be on for too long and it would be a faff for him to remove it later on. Then he applied some pine-scented cologne that Castiel had thought suited him, immediately regretted it and shoved the bottle back into his bag. He took one last look at himself in the mirror and smirked at the man that was staring back. He wondered why that person looked so miserable.

“We’re not interrupting, are we?”

Dean startled and turned to the source of the sultry voice. Rhonda and Eve were assessing him from the entrance to the male changing rooms and from the looks of it, they liked what they were seeing.

“Not at all,” Dean said, more confidently than he felt. He gestured vaguely to the space around him. “Come in.”

They moved as one, Rhonda in her skimpy black dress and Eve in her tight, white blouse and short skirt, almost like a demon and an angel ready to pounce on him.

“I have to admit, I’m curious about all the hype. You’ve made quite a reputation for yourself,” purred Rhonda, stalking closer and closer to Dean. “I’ve wanted a turn for quite a while now, but people kept telling me you’d stopped accepting offers. I was surprised when you agreed to us.”

Dean shrugged a little awkwardly, heat prickling the back of his neck. He felt a little sick for some reason.

“Well, you two are too pretty to pass up.” The words felt wrong and bitter on his tongue.

Eve smiled, pleased. “You think we’re pretty? Did you enjoy our little show on the field?” She’d obviously had time to reapply her makeup and she looked strangely dangerous with her smoky eyes and shiny lips.

“Uh… yeah. I did,” Dean mumbled, wondering where all his smooth one-liners and teasing smirks had wandered off to. Usually he enjoyed flirting. He’d always adored flirting with Cas.

He blinked and quickly rid himself of the thought.

Rhonda and Eve were a lot closer than he last registered and Rhonda trailed a long finger over his chest, where his skin had been revealed by the undone buttons. He shuddered a little.

“How do you want to do this?” She whispered. “Are you a foreplay kinda guy or are we going straight to the main event?”

Dean internally balked. “Foreplay,” he said weakly. “I like a bit of foreplay.” His thoughts were everywhere. He shouldn’t find Rhonda’s perfume so repulsive and he shouldn’t be checking for escape routes in case this all went awry.

“You look tense,” hummed Eve. “Is everything alright, Dean?”

He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on them. “Sorry, yeah. Never better.” He flashed them a charming grin. He could do this. The thing with Cas was over and he was free man.

Eve glanced at him coyly and suddenly, he was being pressed against the lockers, both women’s hands roaming over his body.

“You have no idea what we want to do to you,” hummed Rhonda as Eve began to unbutton his shirt. “We’ve thought about it before. What it would feel like to have you inside us. Your fingers, your tongue… your thick cock. We have so many ideas. It’s a shame I didn’t bring my strap-on. I would’ve loved to feel you inside me as I screw Eve against the wall. You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you, babe?” She said as she ran her fingers through Eve’s silky hair, watching as she began to mouth at Dean’s chest.

Eve mumbled in agreement and Dean jumped when she nipped his nipple.

Rhonda chuckled and smoothed her palm over his cheek and rubbed her thumb over his lip before pressing their mouths together. He gasped softly in surprise at the lack of stubble around her jaw and she took the opportunity to thrust her tongue into his mouth, thoroughly tasting him.

Eve laved her tongue over his nipple and sucked at it gently before grabbing his hand and guiding it to Rhonda’s breast. Rhonda moaned quietly into his mouth and roughened their kiss, pressing him further against the locker as she held his hand tightly against her breast, Eve’s hand wandering to her ass and squeezing suggestively. Eventually, Eve straightened and mouthed at his neck before nipping at it a little too harshly, her spare hand sliding down his front to rub at his crotch.

Dean shoved at them both hurriedly and slid away from the row of lockers. “I can’t do this.”

Rhonda scowled. “Why not?” Her demanding tone proved that she clearly wasn’t accustomed to being rejected.

“I just can’t,” said Dean, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.” He turned to his sports bag and zipped it up.

“What’s wrong? Are we not hot enough for you?” Snarled Eve, grabbing his shoulder and whirling him around with surprising strength.

Dean blinked. “What? No, that’s not it. I just…” He shouldn’t have to explain why he didn’t want to have sex with them. “There’s someone else.”

Eve scoffed. “Surely, you don’t mean Castiel? Haven’t you ended it with him yet?”

Dean narrowed his eyes, mouth drawing into a thin line. What did she mean by that? 

Rhonda shook her head, a huff of laughter escaping her lips. “Honestly, when I heard you two were together, I thought he was just another of your short-term toys. I’m surprised you didn’t get bored of him sooner to be perfectly honest. I can’t imagine him being all that interesting.”

Eve nodded. “You didn’t actually date him, did you? Did you ever manage to take his virginity or was he too much of a stuck-up prude? I’ve always thought he looks like he’s got some sort of stick lodged up that tight little ass of his.” She tittered to herself, Rhonda joining in after a few moments.

Dean bristled. He’d never felt this sort of righteous fury bubbling inside him, but for some reason, their words wormed their way under his skin until he was itching for an argument.

“He wasn’t a toy and I can personally guarantee that he’s more interesting than either of you,” he snapped, snatching up his bag and storming towards the exit. He didn’t care that his shirt was flapping open or that he had no belt on. He wanted to get away from these women.

“Excuse me?” Scowled Rhonda. “What did you just say to us?”

“You heard me,” growled Dean as he threw open the door and began buttoning his shirt up. “Cas has twice the personality that you two airheads will ever have. And he’s fantastic in the sack, just so you know.”

They prowled after him angrily, eyes like slits.

“Don’t lash out at us just because you’re having performance issues,” spat Eve. “As if we want your tiny, limp, STD-saturated dick anyway.”

“You asked me, sweet-cheeks,” drawled Dean as he crossed the field. “I’m not the desperate one who can’t sexually satisfy my girlfriend without inviting someone else to play.”

“No, you’re the one who nobody actually cares about,” bit out Rhonda. “Face it, Dean. You’re nothing more than a talking dildo. Besides sex, what can you actually offer to anyone? You mean nothing. You’re stupid, shallow and selfish. You’re basically an over-glorified vibrator with a face.”

Dean clenched his jaw, unwilling to admit how much those words hurt. He said nothing, making it seem as though he didn’t have to prove anything to them, but in reality, he just didn’t know how to respond. Maybe they were right. Maybe that’s why Castiel had no interest in trying to win him back. Maybe he’d been looking for an excuse to break the relationship off anyway.

Both women scoffed at him before veering off in a different direction. “Come on, Rhonda. We’ll have to start setting our standards higher,” called Eve, ensuring Dean heard her.

Once they were out of sight, he made his way to the bleachers and slumped onto one of the benches, letting his face fall into his hands. Rhonda’s lipstick clung to his mouth and he wiped it away in disgust and quickly looped his belt around his waist to clear any evidence that he’d ever touched them. 

The kiss had been all wrong. He’d expected the light scratch of stubble and a hand knotted in his hair as chapped lips moved slowly against his own, teasing him with nips and licks until Dean finally opened up and allowed a tongue to slide against his own, slow and leisurely. He’d expected a hand to unbutton his shirt unhurriedly before roaming over his chest like a claim, bodies pressed flush and hips rocking together lazily, a firm bulge rubbing against his crotch. He’d expected the taste of coffee and broad, solid warmth encircling him, keeping him in place as kisses shifted to his neck and shoulder, light and gentle and adoring.

He hadn’t expected a locker handle in his back, a hard bite at his neck, long fingernails in his crotch and a tongue swirling around his mouth like a washing machine on its highest spin cycle. 

He grimaced at the sickly-sweet perfume clinging to his clothes and brushed a finger over his neck, wincing at the brief burst of pain. There was going to be a bruise there later. He wrapped his arms around himself and let his head hang low. He wanted to go home. He felt dirty and broken and he just wanted today to be over. 

He wondered if Cas thought he was nothing more than an over-glorified vibrator. Maybe that’s all he was worth.

Silently, he hefted his bag over his shoulder and made his way towards his car, uncaring of his last lecture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all the people who keep questioning my use of adjectives in the notes, I can assure you I already own a dictionary and know exactly what all my adjectives mean! So, here's another exceptionally cheerful chapter! ;)


	30. Chapter 30

A week had passed since they had broken up. A week of watching Dean sit alone at lunchtimes, looking as utterly miserable as Castiel felt. A week of watching Dean turn down offer after offer of ‘fun’ from people Castiel knew only wanted Dean for the opportunity to boast that they’d slept with him. A week of watching Dean drag his feet to each of his classes, his head hanging lower and his shuffling growing slower with every passing day.

Castiel’s head dropped into his palm, fingers clutching at his hair in a mixture of frustration and distress. He had never felt so lonely.

His house was silent without Dean’s laughter and awful jokes. His routine had become dull and boring without Dean there to take him on dates. Lectures lasted too long when he couldn’t text Dean. Even hanging out with friends was strangely tense with an undercurrent of emptiness when Dean wasn’t around.

Castiel stared at his watch. Ten minutes until his next lecture was due to start. He didn’t feel very much like going.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Castiel rose to his feet and began returning borrowed library books to their proper shelves. He hefted his bag over his shoulder and slowly made his way over to the mathematics department, but veered off suddenly before he reached the entrance. He wasn’t going to learn anything in the next lecture because he couldn’t focus.

His feet took him towards the administration building and he found himself outside the President’s door, the secretary remaining quiet once she realised it was him. Hesitantly, he raised his hand and knocked twice.

 _“Enter,”_ came Zachariah’s voice from within the room, a little distracted; most probably by paperwork.

Castiel pushed into the room slowly, as though all his energy had been drained from him over the last week. Once he was in the President’s office, he watched the heavy door close behind him. It clicked shut quietly and Castiel was left standing in the silent room, unsure why he’d come in the first place.

Finally, Zachariah glanced up from his stack of paperwork, eyebrows pinched together in mild irritation at the interruption. Then the expression cleared, to be replaced by surprise.

“Castiel.” He frowned again, this time in concern as he took in the younger man’s dead expression. “…Is everything alright?”

Castiel’s gaze crawled from the door to the floor and lingered there for a long few moments.

“No,” he whispered.

He was mildly shocked when Zachariah blinked and stood, hands braced on his desk for a moment as he leaned towards Castiel, but then he slumped and gestured to the visitor chair helplessly. “Sit.”

Castiel did so without complaint and he realised it was probably the first time he’d ever complied with anything his step-father had ordered him to do without a single protest. Zachariah sat too and clasped his hands together on his desk, gaze shining with worry.

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked, unusually soft and Castiel shrugged lopsidedly. He’d been restless recently. Sleep had been… challenging. It probably showed on his face.

“Dean and I broke up,” he said without meaning to. His own voice sounded bland to him.

Zachariah startled, mouth opening before snapping closed again as he processed that statement and decided what to do with it.

“Why?” He asked curiously. It struck Cas that he had never involved his step-father in any of his relationships before and he wondered why he’d gone to him now.

“Dean used me,” whispered Castiel. “I was just a bet to him.”

Zachariah frowned deeply. “Are you sure about that?”

“I confronted him about it, and he confessed to everything,” Castiel mumbled. “He’s been lying to me all this time.” Suddenly, everything hurt that much more and the ache in his chest was now a searing pain that weighed heavy on all of his limbs and scratched at his brain until it, too, began to ache.

Zachariah subtly slid a packet of tissues in front of him and Castiel realised his cheeks were cool because there were tears rolling down them.

“Are you sure he’s been lying to you?” Asked Zachariah quietly and Castiel scowled in confusion and grabbed a tissue.

“A friend told me Dean was using me. When I confronted Dean about it, he admitted to wanting to sleep with me as part of a bet. It was all written down in some sort of contract that Dean made sure I’d never see.” It was growing harder to speak without choking up.

Zachariah was silent for a few moments as he stared at Cas and Castiel realised he’d made a mistake in coming here. His step-father was always disappointed in him and his choices. They had butted heads over such things for years now and each argument only added to the tension mounting between them. Zachariah had demonstrated his distaste for Castiel’s dreams and aspirations since marrying Amara and Castiel had rebelled against his step-father at every possible turn, often vocalising his unhappiness at the man forming any kind of relationship with his beloved mother.

He had no idea why he’d come to Zachariah about Dean. Zachariah hadn’t exactly been approving when he’d first learned that Castiel liked the company of both men and women and he had made comments about it when he and Amara were still getting to know one another. The comments had disappeared over time, mostly because Castiel didn’t care what some random guy thought about his sexuality, but that didn’t mean that Zachariah was approving of Cas’ bisexuality. Granted, he’d seemed alright with Dean staying with them over Christmas, but Castiel hadn’t really given him a choice in the matter. Zachariah was not his father and Castiel wouldn’t have even let his biological father have a say in his relationships.

So why had Castiel come to Zachariah’s office and blurted out his break-up with Dean?

He obviously wasn’t thinking straight. He needed to leave, clear his head-

“This bet… when did it end?” Asked Zachariah quietly. “When was the… _deadline_ for Dean sleeping with you?” He scrunched his nose a little.

Castiel frowned, surprised at the question. “The end of November, I believe. Why?”

Zachariah leaned back in his chair contemplatively. “So, he’s had no reason to stay with you since November? You’re telling me that it was his choice to remain in a relationship with you these past four months?”

Castiel’s mouth drew downwards. “And not tell me about the bet,” he pointed out because although it sounded great when put like Dean _chose_ to stay with him, it was the fact that he’d hidden the bet that was the problem.

“You feel as though you can’t trust him,” Zachariah summarised. His expression was thoughtful. “Sounds to me as though Dean didn’t want to tell you about the bet because he didn’t want to lose you. Whilst the idea of making a wager like that is… _appalling_ … maybe you should reassess the situation.”

Castiel’s eyes widened a fraction, stunned at his step-father’s commentary. This was the second time he had been told that Dean didn’t tell him about the bet because he didn’t want to lose Cas. What could everyone see that he couldn’t?

“How so?” Scowled Castiel. “I think the situation is pretty cut and dry. Dean lied to me. I’m not sure if you know this, but Dean has quite the reputation around University. He’s known for this sort of stuff; for making wagers and seducing people who catch his eye. He’s known for setting personal targets regarding how quickly he can bed someone, or how many he can bed at once, or how many different nationalities he can screw, or how many straight boys he can turn gay, or how many lesbians he can turn straight or, or- ”

“Castiel,” Zachariah interrupted softly and Cas realised his tears were flowing faster, his voice rising in pitch and becoming more distressed as his hands had curled into fists on the desk. He snapped his mouth shut and dropped his gaze, desperately trying to pull himself together.

Zachariah watched him for a moment or two before speaking again, infuriatingly calm and collected.

“I’m aware of Dean’s reputation. You don’t become President of a University without knowing at least a few troublemakers – staff and students alike. I will admit, I was… dismayed upon hearing the rumours that Dean had chosen you as his next ‘target’. I was inclined to intervene at one point, when you returned home from that bar bruised and in pain, however I doubt you’d have thanked me for it.”

Zachariah lowered his gaze. “I must confess, when I heard students whispering about how you had accepted Dean’s advances, I was… displeased. However, I trust your judgement, even if it may not always come across that way, and when Dean visited us over Christmas, I’m glad I did.” He flicked his focus to Castiel, gaze softening.

“It’s clear that boy loves you, from the way he watches you when you’re not looking, to the way his whole expression warms when he’s with you. He would do just about anything for you, include tread on eggshells around me just so he doesn’t cause any rifts between the two of us. The last thing that boy wants to do is hurt you, Castiel. He’s completely smitten with you and judging by the way you act and speak around him, the feeling is very much mutual.” Zachariah allowed a small smile. “He’s not the sleazy kid I was expecting to take advantage of you and break your heart.”

Castiel’s eyes were wide and round and his mouth was hanging open just a little. His tears had quickly dried up and he straightened, forcing himself into action.

“You… you can’t possibly know all that from just a few days,” he protested. “If Dean truly loved me, he wouldn’t have kept that bet a secret. If he loved me, he would be apologising and begging for me to come back.” _If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t have said he did right before he stormed out of my house._

Zachariah smiled as though he knew a secret. “Pride is a terrible thing. So is regret. Your mother and I fought all the time. We were both stubborn and thought the other should apologise first. That sort of thinking leads to more anger, then upset and eventually regret. And the longer the argument lasts the more you begin to see how pointless sulking is. The thing is, no matter how much we fought, we always reconciled eventually because we truly loved one another. So, the question is… do you love Dean? Are you willing to put your pride aside to make things work out between you, or is he not really that important to you?”

Once again, Castiel was rendered speechless. Since when was his step-father a relationship guru? Since when was he this observant?

Why had Castiel never considered the idea of Zachariah genuinely loving his mother?

Zachariah stood, wandering over to a bookshelf to grab a half-filled ring-binder. “I’m certain Dean is just as upset as you are. Give him time and I’m certain he’ll come looking for you, then you’ll have to decide whether you return his feelings or not.” Zachariah returned to his desk and began filing some completed paperwork into the ring-binder. He paused for a moment and glanced towards Castiel.

“Or… you could go to him first. Prove that you care about him despite everything that’s happened. It’s up to you. I’m assuming you were the one to break up with him?”

Castiel nodded slowly before tilting his head. “I thought you’d be pleased that Dean and I are no longer together.” Maybe that’s why he’d come – to hear someone tell him that breaking things off with Dean was a good thing. 

Zachariah frowned in confusion. “Why would I be pleased about your unhappiness?”

Castiel’s jaw clicked shut. “I… I thought you… You were always so disapproving about my… _lifestyle_ ,” he said awkwardly and Zachariah actually grimaced before busying himself with his paperwork.

“Yes, well… I’m sorry about that. I suppose I wasn’t accustomed to the idea of men liking…” He trailed off uncomfortably. “But that’s no excuse for some of the things I said. I just want you to be happy, Castiel. And I want you to have someone who loves you as much as I love your mother.” He frowned to himself. “I actually thought you already knew that.”

Now Castiel felt guilty. All this time he’d been condemning his step-father and it turned out he had already recognised his errors and was just trying to make Castiel happy.

“You were never this concerned about me breaking up with Balthazar,” Castiel mumbled, a little defensively because why did he always have to be in the wrong?

Zachariah shrugged. “You didn’t love Balthazar.”

Castiel fell silent. He had no idea when Zachariah had learned to read him so well. Actually, he’d had no idea that his step-father even cared. Now, he felt stupid. All that rebelling and fighting for nothing. Zachariah was just trying to pick up the pieces after his mother had died and Castiel had barely stopped to consider that the older man was struggling as well.

As Balthazar had said: _people change._ Zachariah had changed a lot and he was only trying to provide for Castiel. He didn’t need to – Castiel definitely didn’t deserve it after the way he’d treated his step-father these past years. Yet, Zachariah had taken care of him anyway; looked after him in the way his biological father hadn’t been interested in doing. Castiel felt like such an ass.

“…Thank you,” Castiel murmured, gaze trained on the desk. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was thanking Zachariah for; the advice or the past few years, but the older man smiled anyway. 

“You’re welcome. Have a think about it anyway,” he hummed, replacing the ring-binder into its shelf. “I rather liked Dean. He brought out the best in you.” He chuckled softly and grabbed another binder. “He almost managed to convince you to like me.”

Castiel wasn’t sure whether to laugh or sink into the seat, depressed. Instead, he stood, grabbed his bag and headed towards the door. He paused before opening it, and turned to face the older man’s back.

“For the record, I do love you, Dad.”

Zachariah hissed as he dropped the heavy file onto his foot. He kicked it away and whirled around to face Castiel, a deer-in-headlights expression caught on his face. “What did you say?”

Castiel grinned for the first time that week and slid out of the door.

 

* * * 

 

Dean trudged into the suite after his last lecture and found Sam sitting at the dining table, textbooks spread over it along with his notebook, laptop and an array of pens. Sam however, wasn’t paying attention to any of it; his head resting on his hands as he stared blankly at the table.

Dean half expected Gabriel to enter from the kitchen, tutting at Sam’s idleness as he shoved whichever baked good of the day under Sam’s nose and told him to take a break from studying.

The silence was deafening and Dean had quickly come to realise that Castiel wasn’t the only one he’d lost.

He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up, gaze flicking to the kitchen out of habit and he sagged at the emptiness. He padded over to the dining table and sat opposite his brother, glancing over the various books. Something about cranial nerves.

“If you’re hoping you can just absorb the information by opening the pages, I should tell you I’ve already tried that and failed two tests,” Dean joked, but it sounded flat to his own ears.

Sam dug the heels of his palms into his eyes for a second before his arms fell on the table and he stared at his notes with a glazed expression.

“I’ve had an email from Doctor Shurley regarding my poor concentration in class this week. He’s concerned,” sighed Sam. “Considering my exams start in less than two months, I can understand why.”

Dean’s gaze softened and he glanced around the suite again, chest aching at Gabriel’s absence. It felt as though he’d lost a brother.

“How’s revision going? Are you getting through it?” Sam had far more contact hours with his lecturer than Dean did and Dean had no doubts that his brother was studying a difficult, more intense course. His brother had always been the smart one in the family.

Sam shook his head, body sagging in defeat. “Can’t focus,” he mumbled. “I’ve fallen too far behind.”

Dean frowned. “That can’t be true. You have nearly two months left. You can get through everything in two months. You did it last year.”

Sam snorted. “Last year I was going through everything for the second time by that point. I’m still only on my first round and I’m nowhere near finished.”

Dean glanced at the blocks of tiny text printed on each of Sam’s textbooks. “You’ll get there,” he said quietly. “I know you can do it, Sammy.”

Sam huddled in on himself. “I can’t do it alone,” he whispered.

Dean winced. He knew the feeling. His thoughts had been everywhere since losing Cas and it was hard to focus on anything except the huge hole in his heart. That and the guilt of not only hiding the bet, but allowing Rhonda and Eve to kiss him… He shuddered. He shouldn’t have gone anywhere near those women. It had just solidified the notion that he didn’t deserve Castiel, no matter how much he wanted him.

Still, he had to help his little brother. If he could do that, maybe he wasn’t utterly useless. 

“Okay, tell you what. Six o’clock every day after college, we study at this table for two hours. On weekends, we start at one and end at five. We’ll get through all our work together, okay? You won’t be alone.”

He knew it wasn’t exactly what Sam wanted, but the younger man offered him a small, grateful smile and Dean felt like the day wasn’t a total disaster. 

“Okay, Dean,” Sam murmured, gaze a little more focused as he picked up his pen. “…Thanks.” He paused. “Can we… can we start now?”

Dean perked up. Sam sounded so hopeful and the thought of spending a couple of quality hours with his brother sounded therapeutic and relaxing in a way he hadn’t felt since the big blowout with Cas.

He nodded and grabbed his work, shifting some of Sam’s stuff out of the way to make room for himself. Sam immediately brightened, scratching notes into his pad with renewed vigour as Dean opened his workbook. Dean hadn’t realised how much he’d missed Sam, but when he thought about it, before Gabriel, they hadn’t spent that much time together anyway. Sure, they’d been in the same room or they’d watched TV together, but they had never really done anything together. Gabriel had certainly brought them closer together and Castiel had only added to the excuses to spend more time with one another, presenting the possibility of double dates and the like, but before them, Sam and Dean had very much lived separate lives despite occupying the same house.

Dean flicked his gaze over to Sam to find him quirking a tiny smile for the first time in a week. It made his own lips tug upwards and even though they weren’t chatting, it made him happy that they were studying together, supporting each other through the disaster of this past week.

Sam’s smiled faded after a while. “Do you think this would have happened if we’d told them?” He asked after twenty minutes of admittedly solid work.

Dean felt his own good mood slip away and he shrugged stiltedly. “…I think they would still have been angry.”

Sam nodded solemnly and continued working. “Do you think they might have taken us back?”

Dean’s heart twisted. Gabriel had been ignoring Sam’s texts and calls and he’d heard about what had happened when his little brother had visited Gabe’s ratty apartment. Dean hadn’t even bothered trying to win Castiel back. He wasn’t sure what that said about him.

“I don’t know,” he murmured.

Sam’s lips drew downwards and Dean wished he knew how to handle these sorts of emotional situations better. His brother was hurting and he didn’t know how to fix it.

There was a long stretch of silence before Sam dropped his pen with a frown. “How did they even find out about the bet?”

Dean’s brow creased. “Cas said it was Gabe’s brothers.”

Sam shook his head. “Yeah, I know that. But we never told Michael or Lucifer. How did they find out?”

That was a good point – one Dean hadn’t really dwelled on. Now he thought about it though, it was odd. How had they found out?

It hit them both like bricks to the back of the head, but they blurted out different names.

“Alastair.”

“Azazel.”

They stared at one another for a moment in horror, realising they’d both explained the bet to their former friends. The question was: Which group had informed the Milton brothers?

Sam clenched his fists, fury and thoughts of revenge clouding his mind. Dean, on the other hand, sagged and closed his eyes. They had dug their own graves and were now lying in them. They had gloated to the people they had thought were their friends and they should have thought about the consequences when they cut ties with their respective groups. They should have registered that it had been too easy to leave their former friends. Both groups had probably plotted against them and initiated their plan when the Winchesters were at their happiest. It made sense to attack when their enemies had everything to lose.

“I’ll kill them,” snarled Sam. “It wasn’t enough to ridicule and degrade Gabriel, they had to go to his brothers about it all. They didn’t just ruin my life, they had to give Gabriel’s family more fodder to mock him.”

“I have a feeling Alastair and co. worked together with Azazel and co. on this one,” sighed Dean. “I can imagine they’re expecting us to come crawling back to them after everything that’s happened.”

“Oh, I’ll be crawling back to them,” growled Sam. “But not to ask for forgiveness.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, no way will I ever go back to those clowns.” He paused and frowned at his seething brother. “…I hope you’re not planning on starting a fight.”

“Not a physical one,” grumbled Sam although it sounded as though he wasn’t sure. 

Dean crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow in disapproval. “Don’t start a fight, Sam. You’re only going to get hurt and it’s not exactly going to impress Gabriel.”

Sam flinched. “Nothing I do is going to impress Gabriel,” he muttered quietly.

“I hope that’s not going to stop you from trying,” said Dean, because although he didn’t believe he could win Cas back, he had always put a lot of faith in Sam and he wanted to see his brother happy again.

Sam fixed him with a stern look. “If I’ve gotta keep trying for Gabe, you’ve gotta try for Cas. You’re miserable without him and I know you want him back, so why aren’t you trying?”

Dean shrugged weakly. “He doesn’t want me.”

“Bull,” snorted Sam. “He’s upset. You’re upset. We both messed up and now we have to apologise. So, go find him and tell him how much you miss him and how sorry you are. Just because it didn’t work for me, doesn’t mean it won’t work for you.” Sam’s gaze softened. “Please, Dean. I know you want this. You’ve got to do something though.”

Dean shook his head. “I kissed Rhonda and Eve a few days ago,” he mumbled. “They invited me into the changing rooms and I went with them. Cas can’t forgive that.”

Sam blinked. “…Was it just kissing?”

Dean scrunched up his nose. “Couldn’t bring myself to go any further. Felt guilty already.”

Sam shook his head. “So you cut it off before it went anywhere? It’s not even as though you cheated! You and Cas had broken up. He can’t be mad at you for that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I should have been apologising to him, not fooling around with a couple of women after class!” Snapped Dean. “I kept secrets from him and I’ve not even spoken to him since we broke up! How can he forgive me after that?”

Sam scowled. “Then go and find him now.”

Dean huffed. “There’s no point.”

Sam stood abruptly, fire in his gaze. “There’s always a point,” he hissed. “At least you have a chance of getting Cas back if you just go and find him. Gabriel won’t even _talk_ to me.” And with that, he marched upstairs and slammed his bedroom door.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel should have known that Sam wouldn’t give up that easily. It had been a few days since the younger man had visited his apartment and now Gabriel found himself walking home with a very tall shadow.

He sped up a little as he cut through an alleyway. Sam wasn’t making it particularly subtle that he was following him and Gabe also knew that Sam would never physically hurt him, but the idea of having to talk to his ex again made his heart ache. Why couldn’t Sam just leave him alone?

“Gabriel, wait,” Sam said after a little while, but Gabriel ignored him just as he had done a few minutes ago when they were on campus ground.

A hand snagged his shoulder and Gabriel shrugged it off with a thick scowl and a wince, because his body was still bruised and sore to touch. Sam recoiled and didn’t try to touch him again, so Gabriel continued walking.

“Gabe, please,” Sam whispered. “Why can’t we just talk?”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” muttered Gabriel. It wasn’t true. He wanted to know why Sam had hidden the bet from him. He wanted to know if Sam’s heart hurt as much as his did. He wanted to know if he couldn’t sleep in the same way that Gabriel couldn’t. He wanted to know if Sam meant what he’d said about loving him. “Leave me alone.”

“You realise this is exactly what your brothers wanted, right? This is what my former friends have been waiting on for months. They wanted us to fall apart.” Gabriel could hear the frustration in Sam’s voice.

“Then they must be very happy,” snarked Gabriel. 

“Yeah, and we’re left to deal with a shattered relationship,” snapped Sam, finally losing his temper. “Would you stop and look at me already?”

Gabriel came to an abrupt halt and he whirled on Sam, expression stony. “What exactly do you want to talk about?” He demanded archly.

“I want to apologise,” Sam said testily. “I messed up. I should have told you about everything sooner but I was a coward and I didn’t. Unfortunately, I can’t go back and change things, so I’m asking you how I can fix things.”

Gabriel scowled. “This isn’t something you can fix, Sam. Like I keep saying, I can’t trust you. And I can’t wait another three years to see whether you’re telling the truth about wanting to be with me. Give it a rest already and go and find someone else. Someone intelligent and hot and your age. And make sure you don’t mess it up with them.” He turned and marched away, determined to reach his apartment before night settled in.

Sam trailed him. “I don’t want someone else,” he snarked back. “I already had someone who was hot and intelligent and so, so much more, and I’d very much like to make things up to him. Even if we can’t go back to the way we were, can’t we at least be friends?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want anything to do with the man who kept secrets from him and broke his heart,” snapped Gabriel. “Maybe he just wants to sort his life out and have the chance to start again with someone else.” It wasn’t true. He didn’t want anyone else. “Someone who won’t treat him as a bet.”

The echoing pair of footsteps stopped and Gabriel paused to turn to Sam, whom was staring at him wearily.

“You’re already looking for someone else?” He asked quietly.

Gabriel dropped his gaze with a frown, unable to look into broken hazel eyes.

“I want to move on with my life,” he said firmly. 

Sam seemed oddly small in that moment. “And that means we can’t even be friends?”

“We weren’t friends before,” shrugged Gabriel. “Before you made that bet, you didn’t even like me. I’m sure you’ll manage without me in your life, just as I’ll manage without you.” _More lies._

“…I miss you,” Sam murmured, finally raising his gaze to Gabriel’s face. “Why are you doing this?”

Gabriel clenched his jaw. “You were the one who lied to me, Sam. You did this to yourself. Word of advice: Next time you find someone who cares about you, don’t keep secrets from them. Have a great life.” He swivelled and continued walking.

He yelped when Sam gripped his wrist and spun him around again.

“You know full well that I don’t want anyone else,” Sam snarled. “Now, I know that I screwed up and I hate that I hurt and betrayed your trust,” his lips drew into a thin line, “but you’re being a complete ass!”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed and he gritted his teeth. “I’m an ass? Have you looked in a mirror recently? You look up the definition of _‘big bag of dicks’_ and you'll find your own face staring back at you.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Sam snapped. “Why won’t you just talk to me about this properly? Why have I gotta fight with you?”

“Because how come my brothers knew?” Snarled Gabriel, shoving at Sam’s chest. “Somehow, I doubt you told them, which means someone else did. So, just how many people know that I was a bet? Not only did you not tell me, it seems like I’m the only one you didn’t tell!”

Sam flinched a little. “It was Azazel and those guys. I’m pretty sure anyway. They’re the only ones I told.”

Gabriel threw his hands up. “Fan-frickin’-tastic. So basically, the whole college is going to find out. Thanks, Sam. As if people didn’t already point and laugh. You couldn’t keep your fat mouth shut, could you? You’re just so much better than me, so you had to tell your crappy friends about your disgusting little wager. Great. Solid A plus for managing to humiliate me for a second time.”

Sam scowled angrily. “I didn’t know they were going to tell your brothers. At that point, I didn’t think I’d actually fall in love with you.”

“Right, because I’m that revolting,” spat Gabriel.

“Because I was an immature idiot who liked to ridicule others because it made me feel better about my pathetic existence!” Snapped Sam. “Because I was a horrible person and I wanted to fit in with my so-called ‘friends’. Stop pretending that I haven’t changed! I know I was stupid, but you came along and made me into a completely different person. I’m grateful for you, Gabriel!”

Gabriel could feel tears prickling at his eyes again as his face began to burn. “Don’t you get it? You broke my heart, Sam! You betrayed and humiliated me!” He shook his head angrily. “I’ll never forgive you, so just give up already!”

Sam recoiled at that, eyes blowing wide. “You don’t mean that,” he breathed, fear trickling into his tone.

“I do,” hissed Gabriel. “I will never forgive you, Sam, and you need to realise that quickly because the last thing I want in my life is you. So, do us all a favour and _move on!_ I don’t want you and I never will!”

Sam shook his head slightly, not wanting to believe it, but Gabriel clenched his fists and pushed into Sam’s personal space.

“We’re over,” he hissed. “Stop harassing me.”

He spun smartly on his heel and stalked away, leaving his heart behind him.

This time, Sam didn’t follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another joyful chapter ;)


	31. Chapter 31

“Dean!”

The older Winchester looked up in surprise as Balthazar jogged over. He grimaced and dropped his gaze, bracing himself for the tirade he was about to receive. Couldn’t Balthazar have waited for him to leave the sports department before he ambushed him? He wasn’t even out of the building.

Balthazar came to a halt in front of him, panting lightly and he raked his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it look a little less windswept. Dean refused to look at him.

“We haven’t seen you for a while,” Balthazar began. “Wanted to check in on you.”

Dean blinked and finally raised his gaze. That… wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “…You wanted to check on _me_?”

Balthazar offered him a small smile and a nod. “We miss your pretty face. Shocker, right?” He winked playfully and Dean started to wonder if he was dreaming. He pinched himself subtly.

Balthazar rolled his eyes at Dean’s silence. “Alright, we heard what happened between you and Castiel and we can’t stand the sight of you looking lonely and depressed in the corner of the dining hall whilst we all sit together discussing what we want to do over the weekend. You realise you’re still welcome to sit with us, right?”

Dean frowned in confusion. “But you’re Cas’ friends.”

Balthazar’s mouth drew downwards. “Frankly, I’m a little insulted by that. Are you implying that you only put up with us because Castiel asked you to? Do you secretly not like us but felt like you had to go out with us because Castiel does?”

Dean’s eyes widened and he shook his head rapidly. “Of course I like you guys. I just thought… y’know… you’ve known Cas a lot longer and I don’t want to barge in and separate you. I thought it would be easier if… if I didn’t speak to any of you because, well… I thought you’d be on Cas’ side in all this.” He lowered his gaze again, unable to look at another man he’d hurt not too long ago.

Balthazar snorted. “Cassie is my oldest friend. That doesn’t mean I agree with everything he does. Breaking things off with you was one of those things that I don’t approve of.” He gestured vaguely to Dean. “I mean look at you both. You’re both utter disasters without each other. I’m still boggled by the idea of him thinking you used him as a bet and he meant nothing more to you. I mean, has he even looked at you these past eight days? You’re a mess.”

“Thanks,” Dean responded drily.

Balthazar waved his hand dismissively. “The point is, he’s being an idiot and won’t listen to reason, so I’ve come to hear your side of the story.”

Dean grimaced and shoved his hands into his pockets. “He’s right,” he mumbled dully. “He was a bet.”

“Well, I _know_ that. But was that all he meant to you?” Balthazar asked pointedly. “Those first couple of weeks were obviously a bet. You’d have to be blind not to see that. But later, when Cas kissed you and you let him… was he a bet to you then? What about at Christmas when you flew across the country to be with him? Was that part of a bet? What about all the dates and the warm smiles and the hot sex? Was that all a bet too?”

Dean stared at Balthazar, stunned. Wait, whose side was Balthazar on?

“…No,” he said slowly, shaking his head. “None of that was part of the bet.”

Balthazar nodded, satisfied. “Because you love him, right? Because, although this started as a bet, you’ve actually gone and fallen for him and you changed pretty much everything about yourself just to make him happy and proud of you? Now you’re broken and empty because you’ve lost him over something that doesn’t matter to you anymore and you probably forgot about it for a long time, right?”

Dean nodded again, baffled by Balthazar’s easy analysis.

Balthazar threw his hands up in exasperation. “So why aren’t you trying to win him back? Why haven’t you marched up to the guy and told him how sorry you are and you’ll do anything to prove that you love him?”

It took a moment for Dean’s jaw to work, but when it did, he looked away in shame.

“Because I kissed two girls right after he dumped me? Because I don’t deserve him? Because he’d be better off without me?” He frowned. “Because he accused me of being the same person I’ve always been and that all the changes I made were just ways of making myself seem more appealing to him so I could seduce him, get off and then dump him when I got bored?” He closed his eyes. “And of course, I just had to prove him right by making out with Rhonda and Eve.”

Balthazar gaped at Dean before a thick scowl marred his expression. “Dean!”

Dean held his hands up and frowned at Balthazar. “It never went anywhere. I pushed them away, alright? I was upset and angry and I wanted to get my mind off him because he obviously doesn’t want to see me ever again. So yeah, I slipped, okay? I slid back into my old ways the first opportunity I got and I figured out half way through that I was an idiot and so, I ended it. There’s probably a rumour going around about it right now. Probably something about how many STDs I’ve got or how I’m suffering from erectile dysfunction or something.”

Balthazar pursed his lips unhappily and Dean huffed. “Don’t give me that look. I’m stupid and disgusting and I’m nothing more than a talking vibrator. I get it. I’ve heard it all before and honestly, I agree. Don’t bother giving me the rant about how I don’t deserve Cas because I already know.” He tried to make his way towards the exit, but Balthazar grabbed his shoulder, holding him in place.

“If you’d let me get a word in, you’d know that wasn’t what I was going to say,” he sneered.

Dean scowled. “Get on with it, then. I’ve got a lecture.” He didn’t, but he didn’t feel like another round of being told how revolting he was and how he’d never changed – only tailored himself to Castiel’s tastes so he could add him to his slew of conquests.

Balthazar crossed his arms. “Whilst I’m disappointed in the three-way make-out session, I was going to say that I didn’t know Castiel had said all that to you and now, I’m disappointed in him too.” Balthazar shook his head. “I mean, what is wrong with the two of you? It’s like you’re allergic to emotions and communication. Neither of you have even attempted to apologise!”

“How can I apologise after everything? Everything you said about me was true,” huffed Dean. “I use people and throw them away when I get bored and I don’t care who I hurt. I might not have grown bored with Cas, but he said I hadn’t changed and guess what? I proved him right a few days later. Even if I apologise, he’ll never want to speak to me again anyway, so what’s the point?”

Balthazar threw his hands up angrily. “Because you have changed!” He snapped. “You aren’t the same person who used me and hundreds of other people. Cassie was upset because you hid the bet from him! He said those things to hurt you because you hurt him by keeping secrets! He’s as miserable as you are! Stop assuming he doesn’t want to speak to you – he does. He’s just too stubborn to apologise first.”

Dean fell silent, surprised at the outburst. Balthazar sighed and closed his eyes.

“Look, Dean… I’ve never seen you fall in love with anyone. But the way you look at Castiel… the way you act around him… You’re different. You look at him like he’s your whole world and I know that because it’s the exact same way _I used_ to look at him.” He dropped his gaze. “The difference is Castiel looks at you like that too. He’s in love with you just as much as you are with him and I always thought I knew what Cassie looked like when he was in love, but… well, apparently I was wrong.”

He raised his gaze slowly to meet Dean’s. “Cassie never looked at me the way he looks at you. There’s a depth there that I’ve never seen before. He’s different when he’s around you; more relaxed, happier. He’s fallen hard for you and he can barely function knowing things are broken between you. Even we can feel it. There’s so much tension in him and you’re not even around to cause it.”

Balthazar’s eyes turned pleading. “Seeing you two this way… it’s hard to bear. You both need to man up and talk to one another. Clear the air and apologise to one another.”

It struck Dean that Balthazar genuinely cared for him and not just Cas. It made him pause.

“Shouldn’t you be happy that we’ve broken up?” He asked tentatively. “After all, everything you said about me has proven true.”

Balthazar shook his head. “But it _hasn’t._ I thought you were manipulating Cassie, but you weren’t. I thought you’d just throw him away and he’d mean nothing to you, but I was wrong. I thought I’d still hate you no matter how many times you sat with us at lunch or came out with us, but I don’t. In fact, I think you’re pretty funny. I like hanging out with you, not only because you make Cassie happy, but because you’re actually a good guy. I’d like to think we’re friends, just as Cassie and I are.” He smiled hesitantly. “Strangely, I want to see you happy. You made a lot of effort to change into a decent guy and you deserve something good, just as Cassie does. If you two can find happiness in each other, then I’m all for it.”

Dean’s eyebrows were somewhere in his hairline. Balthazar liked him?

“So, can you please pull yourself together and talk to him already?” Asked Balthazar exasperatedly.

Dean’s brows drew together. It must have been difficult for Balthazar to admit all that stuff, but he’d known Cas a long time and if he thought that talking would help smooth things over between them…

“Where do I even start?” Asked Dean quietly. Even Sam had told him to find Castiel and apologise. It seemed to be the right thing to do. “How do I get him to listen?”

A mischievous grin sprawled over Balthazar’s face, his eyes lighting with the sort of glee that made Dean nervous.

“I have an idea.”

 

* * *

 

Sam stormed over to their table with a single goal in mind. Anger rolled in his gut when Azazel turned to him, a smirk crawling across his features. He obviously thought Sam was going to beg to be allowed back into their little clique, so Sam kept his face carefully blank as he came to a stop at the table. Heat prickled at his neck and his fingers itched to punch the smirk from Azazel’s face, but Ruby was also there, smiling slyly at him as Bela and Raphael shared an almost worried glance.

“Sam, what a pleasant surprise,” drawled Azazel, smugness dripping from each word like honey. “How can we help?”

“How’s Gabriel?” Purred Ruby, looking far too pleased with herself. “I’m surprised he’s not with you. You two are practically inseparable nowadays.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and planted his hands on the table, leaning closer and lowering his voice.

“I know it was you,” he growled at all of them, fire dancing in his eyes. “So you can drop the act.”

“I’m sure we don’t know what you mean,” smirked Azazel. “You’re going to have to elaborate.”

Sam banged a hand on the table, causing a few surrounding students to crane their necks over at him. “You were the ones to tell Gabriel’s brothers about the bet! As if his family doesn’t ridicule him enough!” He hissed.

Azazel’s smirk widened. “Oh, that? Yes, we did that. Why? Has something come of it? Is that why you’ve been moping these past few days? I’m sure Gabriel will return to you eventually.”

“He hates me!” Snarled Sam, knuckles white. “He won’t even speak to me!”

“You should have told him earlier,” tutted Ruby. “No one likes a liar, Sam. You only have yourself to blame.”

“He didn’t need to hear it like that!” Snapped Sam, ignoring the surrounding students who were beginning to whisper amongst themselves. “He didn’t need to hear it from his brothers! He’s devastated and he got into a fight with them the other day. They beat him bloody! All because you thought it would be funny to make us both suffer!”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you had told him, Sam,” Azazel chided. “We just thought we’d let Gabriel know that he was dating a manipulator. Obviously, we couldn’t tell him, so we found someone he’d listen to.”

“What exactly did you hope to gain from that?” Spat Sam. “His misery? My misery?”

Ruby shook her head. “This is a good thing. You’re better than him anyway. You’d dump him sooner or later – we just sped the process up. That fugly duckling comes with too much baggage and you can do way better.”

Sam bristled, eyes like slits. “You think I’m going to thank you for this? You think I’m going to thank you for ruining my life? I loved him! I loved him and you took him away from me because you, what? Thought I’d come crawling back to you? Did you think I’d revert back to my old self and join you again once you broke us up? You’ve only succeeded in making me think you’re bigger dicks than you were before!”

Azazel frowned. “Can you even hear yourself? You _loved_ Gabriel? Are you kidding me? The guy’s a broke, ugly moron and he’s practically paedophilic when you look at the age gap between you two.”

“And he’s so annoying,” scoffed Ruby, flicking her hair nonchalantly. “He’s a class clown. How can you possibly love him? He’s not a bit interesting.”

Sam physically had to hold himself back from taking a swing at the pair, but he’d told Dean he wouldn’t and he intended to keep that promise. “You had no right to interfere and if you ever target him again, I’ll inform the board that not only are you harassing another student to the point of depression, you’re also involved in stealing drugs from the hospital and doctoring the number of weeks of work experience you’ve engaged in. Not only will you not graduate, you’ll be in danger of being kicked off the course,” he threatened, voice low.

Azazel’s gaze turned furious and he leaned closer to Sam. “If we get kicked out, so do you. You didn’t exactly stop Ruby from stealing those drugs and you never tried to stop me or Bela from adding those extra weeks to the database. If we go down, you’re coming with us.”

“It’ll be worth it,” growled Sam. “At least Gabriel will never have to see your faces again.” He straightened, gaze cool. “So, either leave him alone, or I write a signed letter to the President.”

Whilst Azazel seethed silently and Ruby glared daggers into his head, Sam snorted and glanced over the four in pure disgust. “Stay away from me and Gabriel.”

As he stalked away, he missed Raphael and Bela’s shared glance.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel startled when Castiel plopped down on the beanbag beside him. When the other man didn’t speak, Gabriel returned to his book and waited. Unfortunately, he wasn’t known for his patience and when Castiel drew a novel from his bag, Gabriel quickly cracked.

“You okay?”

Castiel startled a little and turned to Gabriel, noting the faded bruises and the exhaustion beneath his eyes. His gaze softened and he shook his head, placing the book in his lap carefully.

Gabriel sighed quietly. “Me neither.”

Castiel lowered his gaze and licked his lips. “…Do you think we made a mistake?”

Gabriel frowned. “…No. They hid everything from us. We’re not the ones who made a mistake.”

Castiel stared at his feet for a little while. “What if we’re making one right now? Shouldn’t we at least give them a second chance?” He asked quietly.

Gabriel hunched in on himself. “Your involvement in the bet was over in November. Mine’s not over until Sam graduates. Maybe you can justify giving Dean a second chance, but how can I trust Sam? What if it’s all just a continuation of the bet?”

Castiel’s mouth drew downwards. “I understand. Still… if they’re telling the truth…”

“I can’t take that chance, Cas,” murmured Gabriel. “I can’t spend three years wondering.” His head dropped a little lower and his chest hurt for the umpteenth time that week. He liked to think he was becoming numb to the feeling, but he was only lying to himself.

Castiel smoothed a hand over the cover of his novel wistfully, a soft sigh leaving his lips. A sorrowful silence fell between them and Castiel slowly opened his book, immersing himself in whatever fantasy world was trapped between its pages. Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself a short memory of an evening stroll in the park, his hand tangled with another and an ice cream clenched in his free palm despite the frost dusting the Kansas grass. It was a good memory, so he quickly banished it and returned to his own book.

“How would I even begin to apologise to him?” Asked Castiel suddenly, out of nowhere and Gabriel startled, eyebrows climbing to his hairline once the confused question sunk in.

“…Why would _you_ need to apologise to Dean?” He asked, dumbfounded.

Castiel pulled a face and shifted his gaze to the floor. “I accused him of being the same philanderer that he was when I first met him; that he hasn’t changed. I said he was only with me for sex and that I was surprised he hadn’t tired of me sooner. I’m… beginning to realise I was wrong.”

Gabriel frowned. “What do you mean? I thought Dean made a bet about you? That’s what Sam said.”

Castiel shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet Gabriel’s gaze. “No, he did. But he… It has come to my attention that maybe I was a little too quick to yell accusations. I… may have been a little upset at the time and I let my own anger cloud my judgement.”

“But he still made the bet,” scowled Gabriel. “You have every right to be angry. He lied to you. He kept stuff hidden from you.”

“I know he made the bet, but I’m beginning to think he didn’t lie,” mumbled Cas. “Actually, I’m beginning to realise I’m a bit of an idiot and I may have falsely accused him of being something he’s not.” He sighed quietly. “I _definitely_ accused him of being something he’s not. Even my father was insistent that Dean loved me. I fear I hurt him because I was feeling hurt.”

Gabriel sagged a little, emptiness and longing filling his chest as thoughts of Sam flashed through his mind. He dropped his gaze. That was different. Castiel’s part of the bet was over; his wasn’t. Not to mention Sam had only told him he loved him once they’d broken up. Why hadn’t he said it sooner if that’s how he really felt? No, Gabriel’s situation was far different because he couldn’t be sure how Sam felt about him.

“So… what are you going to do?” Asked Gabriel softly. “Do you… do you want him back?”

Castiel’s brow furrowed. “…Even if I do, I’m not entirely sure that’s a viable option.” 

Gabriel fell silent. He wanted to encourage Castiel to go with his heart, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. “…How can you ever trust him again?” He whispered.

Castiel finally turned to him. “I… I think I already do. After everything everyone’s told me… after all the badgering from my friends… I think I do trust him. I think I was stupid to ever stop trusting him.” He frowned as though an epiphany had struck him suddenly. “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake, Gabriel.”

Gabriel sank into his beanbag wretchedly. He could tell by the glint in Castiel’s eye that the other man was going to apologise to Dean in hopes of winning him back. If he cared to think about Dean these past few weeks and the way he spoke about and acted around Cas, he knew there was a good chance of the pair getting together again.

Which left him as the only miserable one. It was a selfish thought, but he couldn’t help it. It had helped, if only a little, to know that he hadn’t been the only one screwed over by the Winchesters’ bet, but now it seemed as though he was on his own – as usual.

“…Maybe you should talk things over with Sam,” Castiel said tentatively. “Things seem… unresolved between you.”

Gabriel stared at his feet. He didn’t want to seem sour over Castiel’s newfound goal, but it appeared Castiel had already picked up on his mood. “I’ll think about it,” he said, even though he had no intention of speaking to Sam ever again.

Castiel glanced over him once more, a concerned expression gracing his face, but Gabriel ignored him and picked up his book, fully expecting Castiel to stand up and leave him like everyone else in his life was prone to doing. Surprisingly, Castiel plucked his novel off his lap and reopened his page and Gabriel felt a small smile blossoming when the younger man leaned against his side as though they’d been friends for years.

Well, now he couldn’t be bitter, could he?

With a grin, he settled against Cas and lost himself in a world of dragons.

Twenty minutes later, Cas’ phone buzzed and the younger man fished it out of his pocket curiously. Gabriel stole a quick glance over his shoulder when Castiel made a noise of confusion.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Balthazar,” frowned Cas. “He wants me to meet him tomorrow in the theatre after college. Says he’s got some performance coming up soon and he wants me to critique him beforehand. Strange. I’ve not heard him complain about any assessments recently.”

Gabriel tilted his head. “Maybe your mind has been elsewhere,” he said pointedly and Castiel grimaced before nodding and sending off a text to his friend.

“I’ve been off with my friends recently,” admitted Castiel. “I haven’t been paying much attention to them which is wholly unfair.”

Gabriel nodded wisely. “You should probably rectify that before it’s too late.”

A shadow fell over them both; tall, dark and infuriatingly familiar.

“What do you want?” Gabriel asked icily as Castiel blinked up at the shadow’s owner in vague recognition.

Raphael looked between them both awkwardly and it was the first time Gabriel had ever seen the other man fidget.

“Um… I wanted to talk to you about Sam,” he said uncomfortably.

“Not interested,” spat Gabriel. “Get lost.”

Raphael scratched the back of his neck and shifted his gaze behind him, where Gabriel noticed Bela was standing, looking just as out-of-place and uneasy as Raphael did.

“He’s a mess without you,” continued Raphael. “He can’t concentrate in class, gets every answer wrong, has somehow managed to fall behind with his notes… it’s not even been that long and he’s already falling apart without you. Whatever happened between you guys… it’s tearing him apart.”

Gabriel’s eyes blazed. “ _Whatever happened between us?_ Seriously? Are we going to ignore the fact that you were the ones to tell my brothers? That you were the ones to start this whole disaster off? You knew that the only reason Sam started talking to me was to fulfil the criteria of that stupid bet! You do nothing but mock and humiliate me – It’s all you’ve ever done! I’m done with your crap, Raphael. If this is another plot to embarrass me in front of everyone, then you can shove it up your ass… and hers too.” He gestured to the wide-eyed Bela.

Raphael shook his head and held his hands up placatingly. “This isn’t a trick,” he mumbled. “And neither of us had anything to do with telling your brothers. That was all Azazel, Ruby and Alastair’s crew.”

“Oh, please,” scoffed Gabriel, stuffing his book into his bag. He couldn’t deal with these two right now. He needed to get out of the library and away from them.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael blurted, making Gabriel pause. “For insulting you and bullying you and… and for everything I did at the party.” He lowered his gaze in something that looked a lot like shame.

Gabriel shook his head. No, that couldn’t be right. Raphael was his tormentor – the man who had made his college experience even worse than he had imagined. This man hated him. He snorted and zipped up his bag. 

A hand landed on his arm and Gabriel blinked as Castiel stared at him pleadingly. “Hear him out,” Cas said softly.

Gabriel wasn’t inclined to do so, but he liked Cas so he slumped into his beanbag again.

“Get on with it,” he growled at the surprised Raphael.

“Sam is… lost without you,” Raphael said slowly, glancing at Cas as though he was trying to figure out what he meant to Gabriel. He quickly returned his focus to Gabriel. “I had no idea Alastair and Azazel were going to tell your brothers. They mentioned something about revealing the bet, but I didn’t want anything to do with it and I left before I heard everything. Bela told me because she… We were beginning to doubt our circle of friends. Now we see we may have made a few poor life choices.” He looked away embarrassedly and Gabriel found himself cocking his head curiously. He’d never seen Raphael anything less than sure of himself.

“Neither of us knew when they were going to tell your brothers,” continued Raphael. “If we’d have known, we might have been able to warn you, or maybe warn Sam, but…” He trailed off and Bela hesitantly joined his side.

“It was wrong of the Winchesters to make the bet, but you shouldn’t be too harsh on them. They’ve… changed. They’re not the same people they used to be. Sam is… kinder than I remember. Gentler. He’s happier with you than he ever was with us.” Bela flicked her gaze to Castiel. “And although I don’t know Dean very well, I do know his reputation and you have certainly had an impact on it. He definitely treats you differently compared to all his previous partners.”

Raphael turned his attention to Gabriel. “What we’re trying to say is there’s a reason Alastair and Azazel told your brothers about the wager. They don’t like that Sam and Dean don’t want or need them anymore. They hate that you have an influence over the Winchesters and that you’ve taught them how to be more considerate. They hate that they can’t manipulate Sam into giving them money or Dean into sleeping around again.”

Bela shook her head bitterly. “I don’t think any of us truly cared about the Winchesters as _friends._ In fact, I’m not sure any of us consider one another as friends. The Winchesters were just convenient when we all needed them and now they don’t want us, Alastair and Azazel want them back. They don’t care about them being happy – they just want a couple of mindless ‘yes-men’ to agree with everything they say.”

“Don’t give up on Sam and Dean,” said Raphael softly. “They need you.”

Gabriel and Castiel were quiet for a long time, staring at the two in stunned silence. Finally, Gabriel frowned warily.

“Why do you suddenly care about them so much? You hate me. Why would you ask me to give Sam another chance?”

Raphael dropped his gaze and Bela grimaced. “Because Sam was genuinely happy when he was with you. He didn’t need to be cruel to anyone and he didn’t have to go along with everything you said just so you’d spare him a glance. He didn’t have to fake his laughs around you. He just enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his.” She glanced up at Gabriel. “We want that. We don’t want to have to go along with everything Azazel says. We want friends who like talking to us – people who share our interests. We’re tired of pulling people apart when their backs are turned.”

“Tired of bullying people who don’t deserve it,” mumbled Raphael, casting an apologetic gaze to Gabriel. 

Gabriel deflated at the tone. They sounded sincere. Regretful.

“Well, stop hanging around Azazel and maybe you’ll find all that,” he huffed. “And be nicer to people. It’s not that hard.”

They dropped their gazes again and Gabriel glanced over at Castiel, who looked as though the encounter had merely solidified his resolve to talk to Dean. Which left Gabriel wondering what to do about Sam. Maybe he could chat to him about…

 _No._ The bet had still been made even if Gabriel had taught Sam a few things since then. He obviously hadn’t changed that much if he couldn’t tell Gabriel about the terms of the bet. Gabriel couldn’t trust him. Sam might be happy with him, but he could never be happy with Sam if he couldn’t even tell whether the younger man’s feeling for him were real.

“…So, will you give him another chance?” Asked Raphael almost hopefully and Gabriel was beginning to wonder if the guy thought getting them back together somehow partly counteracted all the stuff he’d done and said to Gabriel.

“No,” said Gabriel simply, making Bela and Raphael’s expressions fall and Castiel shoot him a disappointed look.

“Look, it’s great to hear that you guys aren’t going to try to _drown_ me again any time soon,” bit out Gabriel, “but I don’t trust Sam and to be honest, I don’t really know why I should trust you either. I’ve never had particularly great luck around you two.”

Raphael and Bela stared at him with wide eyes, as if the idea of him not believing a word they had said had never crossed their minds.

“But I thought…” began Bela, but Gabriel quickly shook his head.

“I’m done talking about this,” he huffed. “Sam and I are over. For good. I’ve made my decision.”

Bela and Raphael shared a glance before ducking their heads and nodding slowly. Then they shuffled out of the library without a backwards glance and Gabriel rolled his eyes before returning to his novel.

Castiel stared at him sadly but thankfully, he remained quiet and fell into his book once more.

Gabriel was getting sick of being told how to live his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar has a plan ;)


	32. Chapter 32

“So, about this plan…”

“Ah-ah-ah. No more questions. Trust me, okay? You got the flowers?”

“…Yes. Chrysanthemums, just like you said. Do you know how long it took me to get that word right? There were no less than three florists trying to work out what I was asking for.”

“Well, I’m sorry you’re so uncultured. What about the brandy? Did you bring that?”

“Yes, I brought the _Courvoisier_. Again, like you asked.”

“Fantastic! Right, to the theatre!”

Dean rolled his eyes and trailed behind Balthazar as he marched towards the music hall. He had no idea what this brilliant plan of Balthazar’s was other than it included flowers and alcohol and he’d already pointed out that buying Castiel’s affections wouldn’t work, but Balthazar had merely shaken his head, _tsked_ at him and completely ignored any and all questions from that point onwards.

Dean had been worried about this plan all day since waking up. Balthazar hadn’t revealed a thing and honestly, Dean didn’t really know how he could make Castiel see that he really had changed and that he regretted everything pertaining to the bet and the following argument between them. He didn’t understand how he was supposed to make Cas forgive him, yet Balthazar obviously thought there was a way. He just wasn’t telling Dean. Hopefully all would be revealed once they were inside the theatre.

They made it to the theatre and just as Dean was about to push through the doors, Balthazar halted and began patting his pockets down.

 _“Merde,”_ he cursed under his breath before shooting Dean an apologetic glance. “I must have left my notebook in my last lecture. Go get comfortable in the theatre and I’ll nip back to class, grab it and when I come back, I’ll explain my plan for getting you two back together.”

Dean frowned. “Balthazar… I appreciate the effort and everything, but maybe… maybe Cas is better without me. Something just… doesn’t sit right with me about all this.”

Balthazar waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. Cas is head over heels for you too, remember? Once you two have talked things over, you’ll be humping like bunnies in no time.”

Dean scrunched his nose and Balthazar grinned back at him. “Let me get my notebook and I can show you everything.”

Dean sighed wearily but nodded anyway and shoved into the theatre as Balthazar jogged towards the building’s entrance.

It was reassuring to know that not everyone thought of him as the bad guy, but Dean was beginning to rethink this whole pre-made plan to get back with Castiel. It felt a lot like tricking his ex into wanting him again and Dean wasn’t sure Cas would be too happy about that. It felt too similar to what had started this whole fight in the first place. And were they supposed to ignore that Dean had relapsed the moment things had turned sour between them? Were they supposed to pretend that Dean hadn’t been up for a threesome with Rhonda and Eve? 

He’d been staring at the theatre door for a while, all these thoughts swirling around his mind and making him doubt himself more and more the longer he deliberated over them, so he turned around and started towards one of the plastic fold-up chairs provided for audience members. He paused when he realised he wasn’t alone.

He blinked at the stunned set of blue eyes staring back at him from one of the chairs.

“…Dean?” Castiel asked, clearly not having expected his company.

“Uh…” Dean said eloquently, looking down at the flowers and cognac in his hands and the warm pie in Castiel’s lap and… was that a bag of take-out beside his chair?

Suddenly, there was the sound of a key entering the lock at the theatre’s main entrance and Dean had no doubts that the backstage entrances were locked too.

“Oops, looks like someone locked up whilst I was gone,” came Balthazar’s too-cheery voice from outside the main entrance. “Cassie, do you mind if we postpone my mini-recital for another day? Oh and Dean, I can tell you about my plan tomorrow, right? Okay, great, see you in the morning!”

Balthazar whistled innocently as his footsteps faded away, leaving Dean and Castiel to stare at the door in horror.

After a moment, Castiel dropped his gaze to the dessert in his lap and frowned. “Now the pie request makes sense.” He sounded oddly resigned but he was gentle with the baked treat as he placed it on the chair beside him and rose to his feet with a tired sigh. “I’m guessing by your expression that you had no idea about any of this?”

Dean stared at him. “Did I have any idea that Balthazar was going to lock us in a room together and force us to talk over food and alcohol? Oddly enough, I didn’t.”

Castiel dragged his gaze to the bottle of Courvoisier. “At least he remembered my favourite drink.”

“He also remembered my favourite kind of pie,” said Dean, glancing at the rather large dessert.

Castiel closed his eyes wearily, shoulders sagging a little and when Dean took the time to look, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the slightly-longer-than-usual scruff outlining his jaw. His hair was a little scruffier than normal and overall, he looked exhausted. Dean figured he didn’t look much better himself.

This break-up really had worn them both down and for the first time, Dean wondered if Cas actually wasn’t better off without him. He certainly wasn’t better off without Cas.

Glancing down at the colourful bouquet of flowers clenched in his palm, Dean straightened and extended them to Castiel.

“Ah… for you,” he said awkwardly, grateful when Castiel took them from him.

For the first time in ten days, Dean watched a tiny smile pull at Castiel’s lips and suddenly, his heart lifted and he couldn’t help but take a step closer, his own spirits lifting.

“Chrysanthemums?” Castiel asked, amused. “How… creative. Balthazar’s idea or yours?”

“…Balthazar’s,” admitted Dean sheepishly. 

Castiel chuckled and brushed a finger over the elaborate head of a white flower. “I take it he didn’t explain the meanings behind each of these flowers?”

Dean frowned in confusion and shook his head. “Flowers have meanings?” 

Castiel smiled again and took a seat as he examined the flowers carefully. To Dean’s surprise, he then patted the chair beside him and Dean hesitantly took it, unsure what else he was supposed to do. What message had Balthazar told Dean to send? What if it was something rude or offensive? What if it was making fun of Dean and that’s why Cas was chuckling?

“Chrysanthemums in general convey friendship and happiness,” Castiel hummed softly, still gazing at the flowers. “However, some colours have specific meanings. The red ones denote deep love. The yellows refer to a love that has been slighted. The whites symbolise truth and honesty.” 

Dean blinked and stared at the flowers in awe. Balthazar had asked him to buy only the red, yellow and white variations and he had collected an even mix of each. That clever son of a-

“So, I take it you have something to tell me?” Asked Castiel quietly, gaze flitting to Dean. “I assume you set out to buy these flowers for me, even if you didn’t know what they symbolise.”

Dean stared into mesmerising pools of blue and his heart beat a little faster. Even when they weren’t together and Castiel looked like he hadn’t slept this past week, Dean still thought he was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes upon. He licked his lips and took a breath. If he was ever going to smooth things over between them, now was his chance. He didn’t even care if they didn’t get back together; he wanted to see Cas smile again and he couldn’t do that when they were fighting.

“I messed up,” Dean whispered. “I hurt you and used you and you found out in the worst way possible. I was a coward for not telling you sooner. You have every right to hate me and everything you said about me was true. I’m selfish and heartless and I haven’t changed a bit. I had no right to yell at you when I’ve put you through so much. I’m so sorry, Cas. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. You’ve been nothing but kind and patient with me and I repay you by breaking your heart and wasting your time.” He let his gaze fall to a mark on his chair; a spot of blue on a background of black. For some reason, he felt like he couldn’t meet Castiel’s eyes; afraid of what he might find there. "I wish I'd never made that stupid bet."

He was confused when a single yellow Chrysanthemum landed in his lap.

“I was upset when I found out about the bet,” murmured Castiel, staring at the lone flower. “I felt angry and betrayed and confused. I didn’t understand how you could have used me and I hadn’t noticed. I was embarrassed that my friends had warned me about you and I had arrogantly dismissed them. I was hurt and I wanted you to hurt too.”

A lone white flower landed in Dean’s lap, beside the yellow.

“I messed up,” Cas continued softly. “I called you selfish and made out you were heartless. I told you that you hadn’t changed and yelled at you even though you’ve been through so much for me. You’ve been nothing but good and adoring to me and I repay you by breaking your heart and lashing out at you. I kicked you out of my house before we could talk and told you I couldn’t trust you even though you’re one of the few people in my life who has gone above and beyond to prove that I _can_ trust you. You have every right to hate me.” He paused. “But I really hope you don’t.”

A single red flower landed in Dean’s lap and Dean finally lifted his gaze to meet Cas’ soft smile.

“I love you too,” Cas whispered.

Dean’s eyes widened and his jaw fell open slightly as Cas gazed at him hopefully.

“You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met, Dean,” Cas said quietly. “You didn’t give in to your father when he told you who and what you could be. You made a life for yourself despite your family issues. You loved Sam so much even though you hadn’t seen him in nearly two decades – enough to rescue him from your mother and her negligence. You completed a degree in Engineering and then decided to expand your education into Nutrition and Exercise Science. You overcame your desire to be wanted by everyone even though you’ve had insecurities related to your father’s abuse for many years, and you stopped hanging out with the people who constantly used you yet claimed to be your friends. You tried to build a new image for yourself and in doing so, realised that you are worth far more than what people try to convince you of. You became humble but you didn’t give in to those who pressured you into returning to your old ways. You apologised to those you’d wronged and built new friendships by being patient and considerate rather than trying to buy your way in. You even put up with daily harassment from old partners and rumours from everyone else, just so you could be with me.”

Castiel shook his head with a bitter smile. “I don’t know how I could be blind and idiotic enough to accuse you of being the same person you were when I first met you. You’re nothing like that person. You’re so much better. You even repaired my misguided relationship with my step-father. How could I believe you're anything less than brilliant?”

Dean could barely breathe. Castiel loved him. Cas still wanted him. Cas thought he was incredible.

A wave of guilt crashed into him suddenly and Dean winced. Cas noticed. 

“Dean? What’s wrong? I… I’m sorry about everything I said to you that morning. I was stupid and brash and- ”

“I kissed Rhonda and Eve,” interrupted Dean quietly and Cas’ jaw shut with a resounding click that made Dean flinch. “A few days ago, I was feeling low about our break-up and I thought I could get you out of my head by fooling around with a couple of girls. I felt guilty after the first kiss and pushed them away before anything could happen.” He closed his eyes. “But I still kissed them. Still let them kiss me.”

“…Dean…”

“I relapsed the moment you weren’t there to babysit me. Everything you said about me was true. I haven’t changed, Cas. Instead of manning up and apologising to you… I go and fool around with a couple of girls after class.”

“…Dean- ”

“I don’t know how you can even stand to look at me.”

_“Dean.”_

Dean blinked and focused on Castiel’s mild frown and his heart plummeted. He’d just ruined his chances with Cas, but he couldn’t keep more secrets from him. Castiel deserved to know.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered.

Castiel’s frown deepened. “I gathered.” He sighed. “I’m not mad, Dean. I’m… disappointed, I suppose, that you kissed them, but I have no right to be considering I dumped you without talking things over.”

“I should have apologised to you,” Dean protested.

Cas shrugged. “No one’s perfect. At least you’re learning. I should have apologised to you sooner.”

“You didn’t make the bet,” Dean mumbled.

Castiel shook his head. “I yelled accusations at you to hurt you because I felt upset. We both made mistakes. You’ve made it very clear that you would never cheat on me if we were together. I saw that when you kept turning down all those offers for sex. I still trust you, Dean. I still love you. If anything, I’m upset at myself for having hurt you so much that you felt the need to get me off your mind via fornication.”

Dean blinked and stared at Castiel in surprise. Cas offered him a tiny, sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, as if he hadn’t said it enough times in the past ten minutes; as though he was perfectly justified in blaming their break-up entirely on himself.

Dean’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry too,” he said firmly, because Cas shouldn’t feel like everything was his fault.

They gazed at one another for a moment, smiles slowly blooming and spirits lifting for the first time in ten days. After a few moments, Dean plucked the red Chrysanthemum off his lap and dropped it in Castiel’s, letting it merge with the bouquet that was in danger of rolling off his knees.

Castiel’s resulting grin was bright and adoring and Dean tilted his chin up with light fingers and sealed their lips together gently. It felt like coming home as slightly chapped lips brushed his own and Dean had never really taken much heed in religion, but he was pretty certain this was what Heaven tasted like.

They separated and Dean wondered if his smile was as wide as Cas’.

“I love you,” Dean breathed, their noses barely an inch apart and the next thing he knew, Cas’ hands were fisting his jacket and yanking him forwards for an intense, desperate, passionate kiss.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Dean surged forwards, one hand tangled in Cas’ silky hair and the other gripping his shirt as he thrust his tongue into his lover’s mouth and savoured the taste of him.

The flowers tumbled onto the floor as Cas stood and cocked a leg over Dean’s lap until he was straddling the younger man. Dean leaned back against his seat, ignoring its creaking protests as Cas settled onto him in an attempt to get closer. Castiel’s warm weight was like water to a man lost in the desert and Dean’s hand moved from Cas’ shirt to circle around his waist, keeping him in place. 

Castiel ravished his mouth, hard and hungry as he clutched at Dean’s shoulders, as though worried he would disappear if he let go. Dean slipped his hand under Cas’ shirt, desperate to feel hot skin against his own and Castiel shuddered as Dean’s palm smoothed over his spine possessively. He pulled away from Dean’s lips, mouth latching onto his jaw and trailing nips and kisses down his neck instead and Dean released a shaky breath and rubbed Cas’ back soothingly. They were both wound up; both longing for one another. Needy and frantic in a way neither of them had experienced before.

Cas suddenly pressed his nose into Dean’s neck and inhaled deeply. Dean cupped the back of his head tenderly, nuzzling his cheek when Cas clutched his shoulders a little tighter. He ducked his head and pressed his lips to Cas’ shoulder, closing his eyes at the familiar scent of his lover. He’d missed that clean smell of fresh dew drops on grass and that hint of sea salt. 

“I’ve missed you,” breathed Cas as he renewed his path of kisses over Dean’s neck and collarbone. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Dean lightly scraped his nails over Cas’ spine, other arm curling around Cas’ waist snugly. “I’ve missed you too,” he whispered. “I’m lost without you.” He scraped his nails over Cas’ spine a little harder and Cas groaned quietly and arched into the sensation. He quickly turned his attention to Dean’s shirt and began unbuttoning it and once his task was complete and Dean’s shirt was flapping open, Cas splayed his palms over his chest, dragging them down to his stomach in an attempt to map out the miles of skin he never thought he’d touch again.

Dean’s breath shook again and as he stroked Cas’ back, his other hand made quick work of his lover’s belt before dipping into the back of his jeans and splaying over his ass. Cas whimpered and nuzzled his neck in encouragement and Dean squeezed one fleshy cheek before massaging it firmly. This wasn’t about getting off. This was about touching one another and relearning each other’s bodies. It was about comfort and care and making sure they both knew they loved one another deeply. It was about reassurance that they would never fight like that again and that they could overcome anything they did argue about.

Still, when Castiel instinctively rolled his hips after one hard squeeze, Dean snapped his own hips forwards and the delicious friction between them made them groan softly.

“I love you,” Cas said again as he raked his hands over Dean’s chest, brushing a nipple and Dean captured his mouth in a rough kiss, leaving them both panting and hungry for more. Then Cas’ gaze wandered to his neck and a low growl vibrated in his throat. Immediately, he brushed two fingers over the faded bruise he’d spotted and watched Dean wince.

“Did they do this?” Castiel demanded. “Rhonda and Eve. Did they give you this?”

Dean nodded slowly, sheepishly and another soft growl burst from Cas’ chest. “Where else?” He rumbled. “Where else did they touch you? Tell me exactly what happened.”

Dean stared at him for a moment before licking his lips. “Um… Eve was pretty fixated on my nipples. Rhonda was more interested in kissing me and touching my face. I think one of them made me squeeze their breast or something but there was a hand on my crotch at that point and that bite kinda hurt and I was already feeling awful about everything, so I pushed them away.”

Cas’ eyes darkened and Dean gasped when he latched onto his neck, mouthing over the faded bruise. He kissed and nipped and sucked until the skin purpled again and once he was satisfied, he removed Dean’s hand from his shirt and began peppering kisses over his palm before wrapping his lips around each finger suggestively and nipping the pads gently. He took his time and when he finally switched his attention to Dean’s nipples, Dean was a happy puddle of want. He apparently had a thing for possessive Cas.

He was kneading Cas’ ass now, relishing every hip roll and meeting each one with his own. It was slow, incredible torture and as Cas began sucking on his nipples and laving his tongue over them filthily, Dean freed him of his shirt and gazed at his broad muscles. How was Cas so gorgeous?

Dean nearly purred when Cas smoothed a hand over his cheek and claimed his lips roughly as though it would wash away the touches of Rhonda and Eve and maybe every other partner Dean had ever slept with. By then, Cas was pressed flush against him, chest to chest as they panted into one another’s mouths. The chair squeaked indignantly beneath them as they rutted against one another in a steady rhythm and then, Cas gave in and ripped Dean’s belt off him and loosened his jeans.

“You gonna wash them off me?” Breathed Dean, holding Cas closer and barely biting back a moan at the feeling of their underwear being the only thing separating them.

“You’re mine,” hissed Cas righteously. “They don’t deserve you.”

Dean could feel that he was already hard; they both were. Cas’ tone was doing nothing to soothe him.

“I’m all yours,” Dean whispered reverently as he cupped Cas’ cheek. “Only yours.” He surged forwards and nipped Cas’ bottom lip. “Now prove it.”

It took less than three seconds for their pants and boxers to drop to their ankles. Another second for Cas to jerk his hips forwards and grind his erection against Dean’s. Then he wrapped his fist around them both and pumped them as they continued to rut against one another, hands roaming and squeezing and claiming as tongues clashed in a desperate mess.

Cas came first, whimpering Dean’s name as hot spurts of white shot over Dean’s stomach and crotch unapologetically. Dean was quick to follow, Cas’ name tumbling from his lips like a plea.

They made out for a little while after that, plastered together as though they hadn’t quite held each other for long enough. Their hands continued to roam and every so often one of them would grind against the other just for that delicious rush over oversensitivity, but eventually they slowed and Cas relaxed on top of Dean, tracing nonsensical patterns into his chest.

Dean nuzzled his hair with a contented sigh as he rubbed Cas’ back gently. “So, apparently I have a thing for you getting possessive.”

Castiel chuckled into his neck. “I’ve missed discovering new kinks with you.”

“I’ve missed your grumpy morning grumbles before coffee,” hummed Dean and at first Castiel laughed, but then he realised Dean was being serious and he couldn’t bite back his touched smile.

“I’ve missed you holding me,” Cas admitted softly as he placed his hand over Dean’s stomach.

“I’ve missed your eyerolls at my stupid jokes,” Dean whispered.

“I’ve missed your stupid jokes,” Cas confessed.

Dean was silent for a long time as he brushed his knuckles over Cas’ cheek. “I’ve missed your smile,” he said, voice barely a whisper.

Cas’ gaze softened and he nuzzled into Dean’s neck again. “I’ve missed your freckles.”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “My freckles?”

Cas shrugged defensively and kissed Dean’s neck. “I think they’re beautiful and I miss being able to kiss every single one of them.”

Dean’s cheeks heated and he squeezed Cas pointedly. “I love you,” he said, because he couldn’t seem to stop saying that particular sentence.

Castiel melted into him with a pleased hum and wrapped his arms around him. Dean continued to nose at his hair, basking in the reassuring weight of Cas draped over him. This was what happiness felt like.

After a few minutes, Castiel reached down into what Dean could see was definitely a take-out bag of probably cold food now and pulled out a few napkins. He slowly cleaned the mess on their stomachs before standing and re-clothing himself. Dean reluctantly followed and was rewarded with a gentle kiss from Cas, before the older man plodded over to the stage and disappeared behind a side curtain.

Rationally, Dean knew Cas hadn’t just walked out on him, but his pulse quickened anyway and he stood, wringing his hands nervously. He didn’t have to wait long though, because Cas returned less than a minute later with two plastic water cups from the bathroom. He made his way over to Dean and poured him a cup of brandy before pouring himself one and grabbing the bag of takeout with a smile at his lover. Dean cocked his head curiously, but Cas made his way over to the stage again and disappeared behind the opposite side curtain. 

A moment later, Dean heard the quiet whir of a microwave.

He huffed out a laugh and began searching for a table they could use, and when he did, he placed two chairs at it and lay a red and a white flower at its middle. Cas returned shortly after with the heated Chinese and handed Dean a pair of chopsticks from the bag and Dean set out their drinks, placing the bottle of brandy between them.

It was oddly romantic considering they were going to be locked inside the college theatre until morning, when Balthazar or the cleaning crew decided to finally let them out. Dean idly wondered how Balthazar had snagged the keys to the theatre.

Cas disappeared one last time behind one of the curtains and Dean laughed when the lights dimmed around him and soft music trickled lowly from the huge speakers either side of the stage, no doubt from Cas’ phone. Castiel returned with a grin and Dean stood and caught his arm before he could sit down, pulling him into an adoring kiss. Castiel snaked his arms around him and they held one another for a moment, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed as they each tried to convince themselves that this was real, that they weren’t going to lose each other again.

They separated and took their seats, tucking into their meals as their hands sought one another out over the table-top and tangled together loosely.

For the first time in ten days, Dean felt hopeful.

 

* * *

 

“Fancy meeting you two here,” hummed Balthazar, his grin far too wide to be innocent.

Hannah and Gadreel peered up at him curiously. They were currently in the library, snuggled together on a couch as they read through what appeared to be the first draft of Hannah’s dissertation.

Gadreel narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Out with it. What have you done?”

Balthazar plopped onto the opposite couch and sprawled across it, grin growing. “I’m offended. What makes you think I’ve done anything?”

“You’re always up to something,” said Gadreel warily. “Usually pranking me or flirting with Hannah to make me jealous. So, which one is it this time?”

“That’s not true. Sometimes I flirt with you too,” Balthazar winked and blew him a kiss and Gadreel rolled his eyes as Hannah sat upright with an excited glint in her gaze. Sometimes, she was as bad as Balthazar when it came to pranks, it’s just hers were far less crude and obvious.

And they often resulted in fun times for Gadreel.

“Don’t leave us in suspense,” she said. “Who have you pranked?” She paused. “Wait, is this to do with _Operation: Destiel?”_

Balthazar smirked, slow and sly and Gadreel stared at her as though she’d just announced that she wanted to go skydiving without a parachute. 

“ _Destiel?_ Should I even ask?”

She smacked his arm lightly. “Dean and Castiel. Destiel. Do keep up, darling.”

Gadreel wrinkled his nose at Hannah’s use of Balthazar’s favourite pet name for everyone. Then he heaved a long-suffering sigh and attempted to return to proof-reading Hannah’s dissertation.

“What did you do?” Asked Hannah excitedly.

Balthazar chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Literally locked them in a room together and threw away the key. Castiel brought dinner, Dean brought drink and flowers and they’re going to be stuck there ‘til morning. After all, they have a lot to discuss.”

Gadreel closed his eyes in resignation as Hannah’s eyes widened and she placed a hand over her mouth, pretending to be shocked even though she found the whole situation hilarious.

“How cliché,” she giggled and Balthazar tipped his head slightly in acknowledgement.

“Clichés often work,” Balthazar hummed with a smirk.

Gadreel massaged the bridge of his nose before turning to Balthazar. “One, how on Earth did you convince the cleaning crew to give you a key?” Then he turned to Hannah. “Two, why on Earth do you always seem to know about his fiendish little schemes?”

Balthazar chuckled. “I bought the cleaning lady a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates and told her I was trying to help two friends resolve an argument. She was more than happy to lend me the key for a few minutes.”

Gadreel frowned. “That’s oddly… sweet actually.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “I’m not entirely evil, y’know.”

“And the reason I knew about this plan is because we were spit-balling ideas on getting them back together a few days ago, but nothing really stuck. Then Balthazar had a chat with Dean and when he came back, he told me he’d got it all figured out, but wouldn’t tell me what it was in case I told you and you blurted it out to Cas,” said Hannah.

Gadreel scowled. “I can keep a secret,” he protested.

“Unless you morally object to that secret,” pointed out Balthazar. “You would’ve felt guilty for plotting stuff behind Cas’ back and eventually told him. Don’t worry, it’s cute how virtuous you are,” he teased.

Gadreel would never admit to pouting, but that’s what he did and Hannah patted his arm reassuringly. “He’s right. It’s… comforting to know that you’ll stand up for your friends and protect them whether they think they need it or not. It’s one of the many reasons that I love you.”

Gadreel’s gaze softened and a smile touched his lips. Then he returned his focus to Balthazar, whom was watching them idly with a hint of his own smile.

“So, you’ve locked them in a room together for the rest of the night,” frowned Gadreel. “…I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“Think of it as we’re helping them to attain true happiness. They would’ve worked it out eventually; we’re just giving them a little nudge because we can’t stand seeing either of them miserable,” offered Balthazar, looking pleased with himself.

Gadreel snorted. “Oh no. You’re not dragging me into your schemes. You and Hannah were the ones spit-balling ideas. When Cas and Dean inevitably come searching for revenge, you two are the ones who are going to suffer.”

Hannah shot him an indignant look and shoved his chest as Balthazar snickered.

“So much for protecting your friends,” he teased.

“I can’t protect you from your own stupidity,” snorted Gadreel, smirking when Hannah smacked his arm again.

“I want a divorce,” she stated.

Gadreel’s eyes almost disappeared into the back of his skull as Balthazar tittered. “Run away with me, love. We can elope before he signs the papers.”

Hannah’s face lit up and she joined Balthazar on the other couch, stretching out beside him and poking her tongue out at Gadreel when Balthazar curled an arm around her to stop her from rolling off the edge of the cushions.

“At least Balthazar won’t leave me to suffer alone against the wrath of Destiel,” she teased, grinning when Balthazar threw a leg over hers and wiggled his eyebrows at Gadreel.

There was a moment where Gadreel tilted his head slightly and stared at them curiously, but he quickly snapped out of his trance and pulled a face. “Balthazar, how many times do I have to tell you to stop groping my girlfriend?”

“She enjoys it,” drawled Balthazar, wrapping both arms around Hannah and making her giggle. “She secretly prefers me.”

“Boys, boys, I can’t bear all this fighting over me,” Hannah smirked. “Can’t we settle this in a more civilised manner?”

“If Gadreel wasn’t so straight, we could have settled this in an entirely civilised, more _pleasurable_ manner,” winked Balthazar, merely to make Gadreel gag and Hannah laugh.

Hannah did laugh, but Gadreel hesitated a moment too long before merely rolling his eyes. Balthazar blinked in surprise. That was different. Usually, his innuendos made Gadreel uncomfortable, which entertained Balthazar to no end. Maybe Gadreel was finally getting used to his sense of humour.

He was even more stunned when Gadreel returned to Hannah’s dissertation without even a half-hearted protest about Balthazar cuddling with his girlfriend whilst he checked over her work. It wasn’t uncommon for Balthazar and Hannah to lean into one another when they were together and Gadreel had never been serious when protesting their interactions, but he usually said something, even if it was just a sarcastic comment. Balthazar wasn’t sure what to make of the sudden disinterest. It made him pout.

In an effort to attract Gadreel’s attention, he gently squeezed Hannah.

“He’s very handsome when he’s focusing really hard, isn’t he?” He hummed beside Hannah’s ear, just loud enough for Gadreel to hear.

Hannah grinned, catching on quickly. She also enjoyed their banter and the reactions they managed to pull from Gadreel.

“I particularly like that little crease between his eyebrows when he’s trying to concentrate,” Balthazar continued, determined to make Gadreel uncomfortable. He wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted Gadreel’s attention so badly, but he was going to get it.

Gadreel’s lip twitched downwards and Balthazar smirked. “Aren’t his eyes gorgeous?”

Hannah nodded. “Such a unique colour. I get lost in them for hours.”

Gadreel sighed quietly, but didn’t take his gaze off the laptop. Balthazar was openly grinning. “All those hard lines of thick muscle. I bet you have fun with those.”

“Every night,” purred Hannah and Gadreel closed his eyes in exasperation.

“Is his hair really as soft as it looks?” Asked Balthazar, knowing he was going to get what he wanted. 

“So soft,” Hannah whispered and Balthazar snickered when Gadreel finally raised his gaze from the laptop to stare at them both, unimpressed. “It’s great to clutch when he screws you into the mattress.”

Both men’s eyes widened, jaws dropping as Hannah smiled innocently at them.

There was a strange moment where Balthazar’s gaze raked over Gadreel’s body and his mind flashed up an image of him straddling Hannah and sharing a filthy kiss with her as Gadreel settled behind him and snapped his hips forwards, hands braced around Balthazar’s waist as he thrust in and out of the smaller man relentlessly. He imagined Hannah clutching Gadreel’s hair, groaning breathlessly as Balthazar slipped inside her, all three of them moving together in perfect harmony.

He inhaled sharply and shoved the image aside, but when he glanced to Gadreel, he saw the other man gazing at him darkly and he licked his lips in nervous anticipation, breath hitching when Gadreel tracked the movement of his tongue. 

Suddenly, Gadreel was back to himself and he scrunched his nose at Hannah in disgust. 

“I’m certain Balthazar doesn’t want to hear about our sex life,” he snorted. “And will you two stop distracting me? I thought you wanted me to read through your first draft before you send it in?”

Hannah smiled and placed a hand over her heart, making Gadreel scoff before he focused on the laptop again.

Balthazar wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened. He’d never thought of Gadreel in that way in all their time as friends and whilst he could certainly admit that Hannah was beautiful and fun and completely his type, their flirting had always been playful. He would never dream of doing anything with Hannah whilst Gadreel was in love with her.

Why then, was he suddenly having fantasies of them both?

He swallowed and closed his eyes, clearing his head. The thing with Hannah was just banter. Gadreel was the straightest person he’d ever met. Nothing had happened. Everything was fine.

He wondered if Dean and Castiel had worked things out yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One back together, one to go!
> 
> Also, I think I've finally worked out how many chapters there are going to be and hopefully I'll finish them within the next two weeks since I'm off uni for Easter :)


	33. Chapter 33

A week passed and Castiel’s relationship with Dean was stronger than ever. They had agreed that they weren’t going to keep big secrets from one another ever again and from now on they would talk everything out if either of them experienced any problems. They were working on their communication skills and their fight was practically a distant memory; a little bump in the road of their relationship.

Well, almost. 

Dean still had self-esteem issues that made him occasionally wonder why Cas was still with him and Castiel visibly tensed whenever someone blatantly flirted with Dean, but they were working through their insecurities. It would just take a little time.

Besides, Castiel trusted Dean wholeheartedly. He knew Dean would never cheat on him – it was everyone else he had a problem with. Some people openly encouraged Dean to sleep with them even though the gossipers had already spread the rumour about him getting back together with Cas. It made Cas’ blood boil that people were so enthusiastic in their attempts to get Dean to cheat on him. Fortunately, Dean only had eyes for Castiel.

Castiel quirked a smile at the new text from his father and tapped Dean’s shoulder, wordlessly showing him the message. 

_**Sunday lunch @ 1 pm. Bring Dean** _

Dean chuckled and threw an arm around Cas’ shoulders, nosing at his hair affectionately as Batman fell from the scaffolding on the TV. The suite was dark and Gadreel, Hannah, Balthazar and Meg were scattered over the floor and couch, surrounded by various cushions and pillows and cocooned in blankets. Their eyes were glued to the screen, so they didn’t notice the chaste kiss that Dean and Castiel shared on the remaining couch, snuggled together under their large, fluffy blanket.

“My Dad likes you a lot, in case you haven’t noticed,” whispered Castiel with a grin as he settled into Dean’s side.

Dean smirked and stole another kiss. “Yeah, I’m still not over that. Usually, parents hate me defiling their kids.”

Castiel huffed. “He thinks you’re good for me. Says you made me like him.”

Dean grinned and nuzzled his cheek tenderly before planting a wet kiss onto it. “Think he’s got that the wrong way around. Isn’t it you who’s good for me?”

“Sshhh!” Meg hissed before throwing a slipper at them.

Dean rubbed his shoulder and rolled his eyes but fell quiet. He wrapped his arm more securely around Cas and Castiel melted into him, smiling at Dean’s adorable batman pyjamas and placing a hand over his stomach, just because he wanted to touch Dean.

Suddenly, the lights flared on and everyone groaned, rubbing their eyes.

“Oh, sorry, guys,” came Sam’s sheepish voice as everyone blinked at him blindly.

Meg shoved a pillow over her face as everybody else adjusted to the abrupt change in light. Sam gingerly closed the door and shed his jacket, wincing a little when he spotted his brother cuddling with Cas.

Castiel’s gaze softened and he shared a concerned glance with Dean. “Everything go okay at college, Sammy?” Dean asked tentatively.

College had ended six hours ago. It was past eleven on a Friday night and Sam wasn’t looking too steady on his feet. He’d clearly been drinking for quite some time and although Dean had tried to talk to Sam about his new hobby a number of times whilst they were alone, Sam had completely ignored him. The glaze over his eyes was getting duller with every passing day. Sam was falling into a depression and Dean had no idea how to fix it.

“…You want to come watch Batman with us, Sam?” Asked Hannah softly and Dean was glad he’d told his friends about his concerns over Sam. Maybe they would be able to help.

Sam returned from the kitchen with a glass of water, which he downed in five seconds. “No, thank you,” he slurred lightly. “I’m uh… I’m gonna go to bed.” He refilled his glass and plodded upstairs without so much as a _‘Goodnight’_. 

Dean sagged and Castiel smoothed a palm over his back soothingly, working the tension out of his muscles.

“I don’t think they’re gonna work this out, Cas,” Dean whispered and Cas’ mouth turned downwards. He was grateful that he and Dean had talked everything over. He couldn’t imagine being without Dean for nearly three weeks, fighting that long…

“Gabe’s just as broken,” mumbled Cas. He had met up with Gabriel a few times and the older man had pretended to be happy for Cas returning to Dean, but it had been obvious that he was miserable.

Dean shook his head. “I should apologise to him too. After all, he practically lived here. I treated him like a brother. He deserves an apology.”

Castiel sighed softly. “It’s a noble thought, but I doubt he’ll listen. He’s… harder than when you last saw him.”

“Doesn’t matter,” murmured Dean. “Still deserves an apology. Maybe I can convince him to at least talk to Sam.”

Castiel frowned sadly and nodded. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “You’ll have a better chance of him listening if he can actually see we’ve reconciled.”

Dean offered him an appreciative smile and Cas marvelled at how much they worked together now. Struggling through stuff on their own didn’t seem so appealing when they’d talked about how they would support each other in the future. They were there for one another when they needed it and Castiel had a feeling their relationship would progress quickly from here after everything they’d discussed.

After Dean had turned off the lights, everyone turned back to the TV in time to catch Balthazar subtly slip an arm around the back of the couch, where Gadreel and Hannah were snuggled together. They didn’t mention it and Dean began to ponder over the plan to apologise to Gabriel.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel had been doing fine trying to ignore the hole in his chest. He had been perfectly content to pretend that the Winchesters didn’t exist and that he wasn’t suffering from a broken heart because he’d lost the one person he truly loved and another who’d been the closest thing he had to a brother. He had been coping up until that point. Then he spotted Dean and Castiel lingering outside the Nutrition department and his stomach plummeted. He wanted to throw up. It was bad enough that Cas had decided to give the Winchesters another chance, but to bring one of them with him to Gabriel’s safe space? He felt betrayed.

With a sigh, he trudged out into the open, bags weighing him down as he plastered on a hard frown.

“Castiel,” Gabriel said pointedly when the pair closed in on him. He made it clear he wasn’t happy with the younger man and he refused to even spare Dean a glance. Dean had hurt him just as much as Sam had.

Castiel flashed him an apologetic grimace but said nothing as he averted his gaze.

“Hey, Gabe,” Dean said softly and Gabriel bristled before whirling on his heel and stalking away. He didn’t want to talk to Sam or Dean and now apparently, he couldn’t even trust Castiel. Screw them all. He didn’t need any of them.

“Gabriel, wait,” Dean protested quietly, trotting after him with Castiel in tow. “Hear me out?”

Gabriel came to a dead halt, anger simmering in his gut. He hated how much his life had been affected by the Winchesters. Hated how lost he was without them. Hated how hard it was to believe they had used him when they kept trying to apologise to him.

“You deserve better,” Dean murmured. “Better than how Sam and I treated you. Better than how much we hurt you. Better than the way your family treat you.”

Gabriel’s shoulders sagged a little and he could already tell that he was going to spend another night in tears, remembering all the happy times he’d spent with the Winchester brothers.

He tilted his chin and refused to turn around. “I’m aware,” he sneered before continuing on his path home. Dean and Castiel followed him.

“Gabe, I’m sorry,” Dean said and Gabriel almost believed him.

“Good for you.”

Dean caught his shoulder and Gabriel tensed, slapping the younger man’s hand away almost viciously and making Dean recoil.

“Don’t touch me,” he spat, watching as Dean bowed his head and lowered his gaze apologetically. Gabriel’s expression wobbled a little, but he was determined to prove that he wanted nothing more to do with the Winchesters.

Castiel twitched but Dean shot him a sharp glance and the older man remained put, opting to scowl at Gabriel instead. Gabriel didn’t care. What was one more enemy in a world of people who seemed to actively want to humiliate him?

“You Winchesters are like acne,” bit out Gabriel. “You just keep popping up where nobody wants you, don’t you?” The words tasted bitter and wrong but he needed to say them because he needed Dean to understand that Gabriel didn’t want to see him or his brother ever again. “And then you leave without warning and don’t care about the scars left in your wake. Everyone would just be better off without you.”

The worst part was Dean didn’t even try to defend himself. He just stood there and took everything Gabriel threw at him. If this had been Michael or Lucifer, Gabriel would already have a bloodied nose and a swollen eye, but the silent acceptance frustrated him. He wanted Dean to do something; to argue or insult him or maybe hit him, yet Dean merely stared at him and listened to his accusations. Gabriel despised the quiet submissiveness. He wanted a fight – anything to convince himself that the Winchesters were as toxic as he wanted to believe they were and that cutting them out of his life was a good decision.

“You’ve been nothing but kind to us,” Dean murmured. “You were the first person to genuinely care about us. The first person to see past our faults and reputations. You never asked for anything from us. You were the first true friend either of us had.”

Gabriel could feel his eyes prickling with unshed tears and he clenched his fists.

“Leave me alone, Dean. I don’t need you.”

Dean laughed hollowly. “Yeah, you’re right. You don’t need me. Or Sam. You’re so much better than us. You always have been. But we’re selfish and we need you. You’re our family and we’re broken without you.”

Gabriel could feel his hands beginning to shake. He was lying when he said he didn’t need them. He needed both of them, but he couldn’t ever trust them. “You don’t get to say that,” he hissed. “That’s not fair. You don’t get to say I’m your family when you made me into a losing bet because you think I’m so repulsive. You don’t get to say you need me when you clearly don’t care about me!”

“We were cruel and heartless and what we did was unforgiveable,” agreed Dean. “But I’m going to beg for your forgiveness anyway because like I said, I’m selfish. We don’t think you’re repulsive, Gabriel. Quite the opposite, actually. I was honoured to call you my brother and you’re way out of Sammy’s league but you dated him anyway because you’re awesome like that.” Dean’s voice softened. “You worked so hard to get where you are. You endure so much crap from your family and your classmates and professors. You somehow manage to juggle college and an actual job and still get good grades. You sacrificed friends and a functioning apartment for education and I just… I don’t understand how you do it all and still keep your head held high. You’re amazing, Gabe.” Dean’s expression fell. “And you have no idea how much I miss you. How much Sam misses you. The suite doesn’t feel like home without you in it.”

Gabriel’s façade was cracking. He missed them too. He missed those nights curled up between them on the sofa as they watched cheesy movies with a bowl of popcorn. He missed his little prank wars with Dean. He missed double dates with Dean and Cas. He missed cooking with them both and watching their eyes light up with every new creation. 

He missed his family.

A terrible thought entered his head; one that had been stewing there for a while. What if it was all fake? Just like his relationship with Sam had turned out to be, what if all those things he missed were fake too? What if it had all been a plan to get him to stay with them; to cook for them and stop him from breaking up with Sam? Every laugh, every smile, every interaction… what if none of it was real?

Gabriel’s mouth drew into a thin line and he quickly stopped that line of thinking before he burst into tears.

“I’m not your family, Dean,” he bit out. “And I can’t think of anything more nauseating than being your brother.”

He spun smartly on his heel, resolutely ignoring Dean’s crestfallen expression as he prowled away.

He snarled when a hand gripped his shoulder and he whirled around to give Dean a piece of his mind, only to find cold, blue eyes glaring at him. 

“I understand that you’re hurt, but there’s no need to be cruel,” growled Castiel lowly. 

Gabriel’s eyes widened in indignation. “Cruel? The only person who’s cruel here is Dean!” His expression twisted. “I get that you’re screwing him again, but you do realise that not everyone is desperate for his attention?”

Castiel’s eyes flashed with anger and he took a step towards Gabriel and lowered his voice to a warning hiss. “Maybe if you stopped feeling so sorry for yourself, you would see how much they love you. How much your childishness is tearing them apart.”

“My childishness?” Scoffed Gabriel. “I’m not the one who made a bet about whether or not I could screw someone within a month!”

“Who cares about the bet?!” Castiel threw his hands up in exasperation. “It ended in November and they completely forgot about it. Haven’t they already proved they love us? Haven’t we tortured them enough since finding out? They’re nervous wrecks! Have these past few months meant nothing to you? Are you waiting for them to lick the dirt off your boots? What more do you want them to do?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened for a moment, then his voice broke and his gaze turned pleading, a glassy sheen filling it. 

“I want them to leave me alone!”

Gabriel watched as Castiel’s expression cycled through disbelief, irritation and distress before finally settling on defeat as he bowed his head. When he offered nothing more, Gabriel spun around again, ignoring Dean’s devastated expression and pacing home far quicker than usual and with tears rolling down his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel was having a bad morning. He’d thought that working at the café would clear his head of yesterday’s encounter with Dean and Castiel, but in reality, it had given him more time to dwell upon it. He had barely slept; too upset over everything Dean had confessed and the way he’d lashed out at both of them. Maybe Castiel was right – maybe he was being childish. Maybe he should just accept that the Winchesters were sorry and give them a second chance.

But then the bet niggled at his brain and he began to worry whether they were just admitting they were wrong merely because Sam was supposed to carry out the terms of the bet until he graduated. What if they were only apologising to Gabriel so he would get together with Sam and they could finish the wager? It was confusing and heart-breaking and he couldn’t seem to get past the idea. 

What was worse was his concerns were affecting every other little thing that he did. His grades were down and he had missed a deadline. His work at the café was subpar, which wasn’t fair on Ellen considering it was her livelihood he was messing up. He hadn’t spoken to Charlie and Kevin in over a week because he couldn’t bring himself to stay in college any longer than necessary and they probably thought he’d fallen out with them. His brothers kept sending him condescending text messages about how they thought he’d done the best thing in breaking up with Sam and even though he rarely responded, it was obvious they were enjoying his drawn-out misery. The only upside in all of this seemed to be that Azazel and his little crew didn’t bother him anymore and he wasn’t entirely sure why that was. Shouldn’t they be gloating by now?

He sighed and checked his phone for the time. Classes would start in thirty minutes, which would give him just enough time to change out of his work uniform and walk over to the campus.

He disappeared into the toilets and let his mind wander. The truth was that he just wanted to apologise to the Winchesters and go back to the way things were. He wanted them in his life again as the family he never had. But he couldn’t see how he could do that with all that had happened between them. He couldn’t wait three years for Sam to graduate and hope that the younger man would still want him – he wasn’t naïve enough to think that Sam would wait that long for him either. If they waited, they would probably grow apart anyway and Gabriel had no intention of wishing three years of his life away just to see if Sam would actually love him at the end of it. So, what else was he supposed to do?

He shook his head in defeat. The best thing to do was move on. He had another year before he graduated and then college would be over for him anyway and he could leave and never see Sam again. He just had to get through another year, which would probably be a lot harder than he was making it out to be if the ache in his chest was anything to go by. Could he really get through another year of this bitter pining? Could he really suffer through another year of Sam’s sad eyes and Dean’s guilty expressions? What about Cas’ disapproval? Could he go through another year of that?

His mouth drew into a thin line. He had to. There was no happy ending to this story. Sam had broken his heart and he had to live with it. Maybe in a few years, he’d forget about the Winchesters and his life would be different, better than it was now. Maybe the ache in his chest would fade to nothing over time and he’d find someone else to spend his life with. Someone who would make him forget all about Sam.

He could hope.

He was still musing about his situation when he left the café in his everyday clothes and he continued to think about everything as he made his way up to the campus. As he neared the college, he averted his gaze at the sight of Dean, Sam and Castiel getting out of the Impala. It appeared Castiel had stayed the night at the Winchester suite and the thought refreshed the pain in Gabriel’s heart. Castiel had found his happy ending. He risked another glance towards them and cursed under his breath when Sam caught him staring. He quickly turned away and kept his eyes glued to the tarmac as he crossed the road.

He really hoped they didn’t try to corner him again. He didn’t think his heart could take another round of confessions. It had been hard enough trying to push Dean away yesterday and with every new attempt to apologise to him, Gabriel felt his resolve to reject the Winchesters crumble just that little bit extra. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to turn either of them away.

Suddenly, someone shouted in alarm and he glanced up to find a few students screaming at him with wide eyes, waving their hands around frantically. He frowned in confusion and glanced in the direction they were gesturing to.

...And gasped at the sight of an SUV less than two metres away from hurtling into his body at a speed he knew was going to kill him.

He squeezed his eyes shut instinctively, bracing for his final moments.

His body hit the floor hard and a series of thumps and bangs sounded behind him along with the screeching of brakes.

Gabriel opened his eyes and looked down at his own body. Apart from a few scrapes from smacking into the tarmac, he was unharmed, which meant the car hadn’t hit him.

Someone had pushed him out of the way.

Throat dry and breaths shaky, Gabriel slowly turned his gaze to the back of the SUV. Behind the rear wheels was a tall, limp body sprawled over the road, caked in blood and bruises. A familiar mop of brown hair covered the person’s face, but Gabriel’s veins turned to ice and his heart sunk anyway because deep down, he knew who had saved him.

His fears were confirmed when Dean came racing over, panic gripping his expression as he fell to his knees and reached out to grasp the unmoving body, only for his hands to tremble and fall to his sides helplessly, uncertain if he was supposed to touch his broken brother. 

The driver of the SUV scrambled out to take a look at the damage and Gabriel noticed the phone clenched in his hand, the text messaging app still open. The guy took one look at Sam’s twisted body and promptly returned to his car and sped off, hitting speeds far greater than what he’d crashed into Sam at.

Castiel was quick to snap a picture of the license plate.

Gabriel watched in horror as Dean’s trembling hands settled over Sam’s arm and shook him gently. Sam didn’t respond and when Dean let go with a whimper, Sam flopped over onto his back and everyone could see the full extent of his injuries, including the broken leg and arm angled in the wrong direction. There were splashes of blood over his clothes and skin and his limbs and chest were mottled purple. When Dean gently brushed the hair from Sam’s face, he found more of the same and he broke down, sobbing over Sam’s fractured body as he begged his brother to wake up.

Gabriel couldn’t breathe as he watched people begin to crowd around the brothers. Castiel was already on the phone, running a panicked hand through his hair as he presumably called an ambulance. His eyes were wide and shocked and all Gabriel could hear was Dean’s wrecked sobs and the sound of his own blood rushing through his head as he tried to stand. When he collapsed, he realised there were people crowding around him as well, trying to help him up, but he ignored them because he needed to get to Sam. He needed to make sure Sam was alive.

He needed Sam to be alive.

He pushed himself to his feet again, but stumbled in his mindless fear and resorted to half-crawling and half-dragging himself over the floor to get to Sam. When he finally reached him and saw the extent of the damage, he realised his breath was hitching frantically and tears were streaming down his scuffed cheeks.

Why wasn’t Sam moving?

He raised his hand to touch the younger man’s face, but quickly changed his mind and held his hand instead, cries worsening when Sam didn’t so much as twitch.

This couldn’t be happening.

Suddenly, Castiel was crouching beside him, phone pressed to his ear as he first positioned the back of his hand over Sam’s nose and then placed two fingers over the pulse point on his neck. He quickly returned his attention to whomever was on the phone, but Gabriel didn’t hear any of it – all he could see was Sam’s broken, still body.

Dean was mumbling nonsense under his breath now, hand on Sam’s shoulder as he stared at his brother’s face helplessly. A whine tumbled from Gabriel’s lips as he gently squeezed Sam’s hand. Why did he look so pale?

Cas leapt into action abruptly, shoving Dean and Gabriel out of the way and thrusting the phone at Gabriel blindly as he kneeled by Sam’s side. Gabriel took the device, not really sure what else to do and then his stomach dropped as he watched Cas clasp his hands over Sam’s chest and start pumping firmly.

A moment later, Raphael pushed through the muttering crowd and dropped to his knees beside Sam’s head. He tilted the younger man’s chin back and Castiel paused his compressions to allow Raphael to breathe two deep bursts of air into Sam’s mouth. Then, Castiel returned to thumping on Sam’s chest as Raphael held two fingers to his pulse point.

Gabriel watched numbly, a mantra of _‘He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead,’_ cycling on repeat in his head. He shifted his gaze to the shaking Dean, who’d wrapped his arms around his knees as he stared at the scene in silence. There was a moment where their eyes met and Gabriel saw his own feelings of fear and loss and grief reflecting back at him in Dean’s teary gaze, before the memories of yelling and arguments came rushing back to him, drowning him in guilt and regret and more panic than he’d ever felt before. Sam had sacrificed his life to save Gabriel and the last thing Gabriel had ever said to him was that he would never forgive him for a stupid bet that didn’t even matter. He’d said he didn’t wish to see Sam again. Told him he didn’t want him anymore.

Sour bile rocketed up his throat and Gabriel promptly vomited. A few students backed up, but he paid them no heed, instead forcing himself to look at Sam’s mangled body.

The ambulance arrived after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a delightful chapter! ;)
> 
> Also, if you've watched Cruel Intentions, you probably guessed this was going to happen ;)


	34. Chapter 34

Sam’s eyes fluttered open slowly. His body ached and there was an obnoxious, high-pitched beeping by his left ear that he was pretty certain would become quickly annoying. There was pressure on his right arm and his right leg felt weird and constricted with a similar sort of constriction, to the point where he realised he couldn’t bend his knee. He figured out he was on a bed of some sort, but it wasn’t his own bed because it was hard and the sheets were scratchy against his skin. He felt groggy and uncoordinated and his throat was extremely dry. 

As his vision began to focus, he started to take note of other things, like the weight on his face and the bright, harsh lights above him and the warmth encasing his left hand. A soft hissing sound filled the room along with the irritating beeping – which was increasing in tempo – and Sam frowned and tried to remove the thing on his face, only to figure out that he couldn’t move his right arm. The warmth around his left hand was comforting and he didn’t feel much like moving it, but the thing on his face was growing bothersome, so he rolled his head to the left to figure out whether he would get the warmth back if he lifted his arm for a moment.

His eyes widened at the sight of a familiar golden head leaning on his bed, one hand tangled with his.

“Gabriel?” Sam croaked, only to realise the thing on his face was a mask and his voice sounded weak and like it hadn’t been used for a few days.

“Gabriel?” He tried again anyway, gently squeezing Gabriel’s hand to rouse him. 

The older man’s head snapped up and he blinked a few times, attempting to focus. Sam felt guilty for waking him, but he couldn’t remember why he was apparently in a hospital and he had no idea why Gabriel was with him when they were supposed to have broken up weeks ago.

Finally, Gabriel seemed to see him and his eyes widened and his voice cracked.

_“Sam.”_

He made to hug Sam, but then his gaze flicked to the younger man’s arm and he hesitated and drew back regretfully. Sam frowned in disappointment and glanced at his arm to find it was in a cast. Huh.

“You’re awake,” Gabriel whispered, as though he hadn’t been expecting it and Sam felt his frown deepening. Just how long had he been in hospital for…?

“I’ll um… I’ll call your brother. Let him know you’re…” He trailed off as he rummaged in his pocket for his phone and that’s when Sam noticed the dried tear tracks streaking down his face and the red puffy eyes. Even his hair was dishevelled. He looked a mess.

Sam caught his wrist to stop him from dialling. Dean could wait a little longer.

“What- ” He scowled and pulled the mask off his face. “What happened?”

Gabriel stared at him and Sam noted the lingering echoes of terror in his eyes. Gabriel was obviously haunted by something. “…You don’t remember?”

Sam shook his head slowly. His skull throbbed with the effort.

Gabriel slumped into the chair he’d been sitting on earlier. “You were…” He faltered, voice breaking. “You were hit by a car.” He ran a stressed hand through his hair and Sam quickly realised why it was so chaotic. “Pushed me out of the way and took the impact yourself.”

Sam lowered his gaze, scowling in concentration as flashes of the morning returned to him. He remembered making his way over to Gabriel to attempt to apologise to him again. He remembered seeing the speeding SUV and the driver too engrossed with his phone. He remembered Gabriel stepping out into the road and the fear that filled him when he realised the driver wasn’t going to spot him. He remembered sprinting towards Gabriel. He remembered shoving him backwards… 

That was it. That’s all he could remember.

He glanced up again and noticed Gabriel was staring at him, gaze watery.

“You were dead,” Gabriel whispered. “Sprawled over the floor like a broken doll. You looked so pale and there was blood and bruises everywhere. I thought…” He averted his gaze as the first few tears fell.

Sam itched to reach out and touch him, but he wasn’t sure if it was acceptable. After all, Gabriel was his ex and he’d made it clear he wanted nothing to do with Sam. He kept his hands to himself.

“How long have I been here?” Asked Sam, flicking his gaze to the cast on his arm. He had no doubt there was one on his leg too.

“A week,” Gabriel choked, fingers curling into the cheap blanket. “You’ve been unconscious for a week.”

Sam blinked and snapped his gaze to Gabriel again. A million thoughts ran through his head and just as many questions threatened to spill from his tongue, but only one made it past his lips.

“You came to visit me?”

Gabriel stared at him in surprise, then his face crumpled and he lowered his head, more tears dripping on the blanket as he curled his fists in it.

“You saved my life,” Gabriel whispered. “You’re in here because of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said and he wasn’t sure what he was apologising for, but he felt like he should. After all, he’d probably interrupted Gabriel’s studies by making him visit the hospital for a whole week and he was pretty sure Gabriel didn’t have time to be watching over Sam. They weren’t even together anymore; Gabriel should be living his own life, not checking on him at the hospital every day.

Gabriel gaped at Sam. “What are you sorry for?”

Sam wriggled until he was sitting more upright. “You shouldn’t have to look after me. You have work and studying to do. Exams are coming up soon and I’ve messed everything up for you for an entire week. We’re not even together anymore and I’m still ruining your life.”

Gabriel looked as though his brain had crashed. His eyes widened as he continued to gape at Sam.

“You threw yourself in front of a car for me and you’re worried about my _exams_?” He asked incredulously.

Sam shrugged awkwardly. “You’ve worked hard to get where you are. I don’t want to ruin your future.”

Gabriel’s expression didn’t clear. If anything, it grew even more disbelieving. Finally, he closed his eyes.

“You _died_ for me, Sam. Do you honestly think I give a flying fig about exams and work?” His voice was stronger now, righteous. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand to be without you, even for a moment. The nurses have had to pry me out of this room every time visiting hours have ended. I’ve barely slept or eaten and I certainly haven’t been thinking about lectures, or going to work. I don’t know what to do with myself once I leave this room and all I can think about is what stupid ideas must’ve been going through your head when you decided to push me out of the way of that car.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping fresh tears away. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured, voice wavering. “You were dead and all I could think was the last thing I’d said to you was how I’d never forgive you and I didn’t want you in my life.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “All over a silly bet that doesn’t even mean anything.”

His breath hitched as more tears rolled down his cheeks. “You were dead and it was my fault. If I’d have just believed you all those times you tried to talk to me, if I hadn’t been so stubborn and immature… maybe you wouldn’t be here now. Maybe you wouldn’t have…” He trailed off again, breaths breaking into quiet sobs. “I thought you were gone.”

His shoulders were shaking and the sight broke Sam’s heart. He gently grasped Gabriel’s hand and the older man clung to him like a lifeline, sobs worsening.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam whispered. “I was the one who upset you. First with the bet and now this.” He frowned at himself. “I seem to be very good at upsetting you.”

Gabriel stopped crying momentarily to stare at him as though he was stupid. 

“Sam Winchester, you are the most idiotic, infuriating, self-loathing, bravest, kindest, sweetest, most intelligent person I have ever met. And so help me, if you blame yourself for upsetting me one more time, I’ll snap that oxygen mask back over your face, capisce?”

Sam blinked and nodded in surprise.

Gabriel sighed and held his hand tighter before pressing his lips to Sam’s scuffed knuckles.

“I missed you,” Gabriel whispered and Sam’s heart did a somersault. “I’ve missed you for nearly four weeks.”

Was that how long it had been since they were together?

“I’ve missed you too,” he croaked.

Gabriel grasped his hand in both of his and rested his forehead against their combined fists. “You died and I missed you.”

Sam paused. “In all fairness… I didn’t mean to die.”

A smile twitched Gabriel’s lips and he pressed them to Sam’s knuckles again. Sam threaded his fingers through Gabriel’s and a smile crawled across his face when Gabriel didn’t bat him away. The older man was still crying, but his tears were slower and his breaths quieter and despite all that, Sam still thought he was the most gorgeous person he’d ever met. He still couldn’t believe Gabriel has stayed with him in hospital for a whole week.

“I love you,” Sam tried again softly, praying things wouldn’t turn out like they had last time he’d said that.

Gabriel huffed out a broken laugh and squeezed his hand. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Sam grinned at the familiar sarcasm, but then Gabriel turned to him with a glassy gaze and a watery quirk of his lips. “I love you too, kiddo. More than you’ll ever know.”

It was like a chorus of angels had suddenly burst into perfect harmony above them. Sam beamed at him beautifully and Gabriel huffed out something between a laugh and a wrecked sob as he closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to Sam’s palm. 

“Don’t ever die on me again,” Gabriel whimpered. “I can’t go through this again. Can’t watch you break again.”

“Don’t jump in front of speeding cars in future and I won’t have to,” smirked Sam.

This time, Gabriel did huff out a laugh. “Dying is no excuse to turn into a little shit.”

“I think it’s plenty excuse,” grinned Sam. “The best, actually.”

“Don’t make me use that oxygen mask.”

Sam chuckled huskily and gently removed his hand from Gabriel’s grip to cup his cheek instead. Gabriel placed a palm over his hand and leaned into his touch, his free hand coming to rest lightly over Sam’s chest. His chest was a little sore, but Sam didn’t care because he just wanted Gabriel to keep touching him.

“I should call your brother,” Gabriel mumbled. “Tell him you’re awake.”

Sam shook his head and smoothed his palm over Gabe’s cheek. “Just… hold on a sec, okay?”

Gabriel managed a weak smile and nuzzled into his palm before pressing a kiss to his wrist. Sam glanced around, checking to see if any hospital staff were watching, then he clumsily shuffled to his right and tugged gently on Gabe’s shirt collar. 

“Lie with me?” He pleaded quietly.

Gabriel’s eyebrows arched upwards and he, too, glanced around. “I don’t know, Sam. The nurses don’t like me as it is. And I don’t think that bed is big enough for two of us.”

Sam sagged. “Can I at least have a drink, then, so I can feel my lips when I kiss you?”

Gabriel bolted upright and grabbed the bottle of water he’d brought for himself. He unscrewed the cap and handed the bottle to Sam before fussing over his pillows and making sure he was sitting tall enough to not choke. Sam took a long gulp before returning the bottle to Gabriel and once Gabe had set it on the tiny table beside the bed again, Sam yanked him forwards and kissed his cheek. 

Unsatisfied, Gabriel turned his head and pressed their mouths together sweetly and after a few moments of Sam clutching at his shirt desperately, Gabe finally caved and rolled onto the bed with him. It creaked and wobbled in protest and the rails dug into their sides uncomfortably, but then Gabriel manoeuvred them both so Sam was practically lying on top of him, head tucked under Gabe’s chin and Sam finally felt a thrum of contentment in his heart.

Gabe stroked his back soothingly and Sam closed his eyes, focusing on the strong, steady thump of Gabriel’s heartbeat. He wrapped his good arm around Gabriel’s waist, tugging him closer and the older man chuckled quietly when he slipped his fingers under his shirt, desperate to feel Gabe’s warm skin against his own. He was touch-starved after these past few weeks and it showed.

Gabriel’s free hand caressed his face tenderly and Sam felt his mind beginning to slow. When Gabriel began stroking his hair, Sam was half-asleep. He vaguely heard Gabe speaking on the phone to someone, but the call was short and he quickly returned to touching Sam again, so he barely paid attention.

Ten minutes later, Sam was awoken by Gabriel trying to sneak off the bed. He tightened his grip on the other man, fearful about him leaving and cutting Sam out of his life again, but Gabe quickly turned to him again with a reassuring smile and squeezed his good arm. Sam realised there was a nurse scowling at them both, arms crossed as she waited for Gabriel to hop off the bed.

“These beds are for patients only,” she chided as Gabriel stood and straightened his clothes. “They’re certainly not meant for two people.”

Gabriel nodded and held his hands up apologetically. Sam scowled at her but said nothing, already missing Gabriel’s sweet scent and comforting hands.

The nurse busied herself with his monitors before fussing over his various tubes and cables and Sam flinched when she realigned a needle in his broken arm. He looked over to Gabriel miserably and the older man tried to slide towards him, but was halted by the nurse’s narrowed gaze. He slumped and glanced at Sam helplessly.

“Sammy?”

Sam startled a little at the choked voice and he turned to the doorway to see Dean and Castiel hovering there, Dean looking absolutely wrecked with dark circles under his eyes and exhaustion lining his face. His muscles were bunched with tension and his hair looked as though it hadn’t been combed in days. He stumbled into the room, clutching Cas’ hand tightly and the nurse rolled her eyes before leaving.

“Dean,” Sam smiled as he sat upright, voice stronger than earlier. “You look like crap, jerk.”

He let out a little _‘oof’_ when Dean threw his arms around him. He held his brother in a one-armed hug for a long moment and pretended he couldn’t hear Dean’s shaky breaths into his neck. 

“You died,” Dean breathed so quietly, only Sam could hear it. “You were dead for eleven minutes.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and held Dean a tad tighter. 

“The paramedics would’ve been too late,” Dean whispered. “Cas brought you back,”

Sam flicked his awed gaze to Castiel, who offered him a curious head tilt from where he stood in the corner of the room.

“Him and Raphael,” murmured Dean and that made Sam blink in shock. Raphael?

“I should’ve been here when you woke up,” Dean muttered, drawing back from Sam with a bitter shake of his head.

“You were exhausted,” Cas said sternly. “You were here every hour the nurses allowed for six days. You nearly collapsed at one point. You needed to rest.”

“Not that I got any,” grumbled Dean. “And Gabe was here for seven days!”

“I have no say in what Gabriel does,” Castiel muttered as though he was annoyed about that. He shot Gabriel a sharp look and the older man ducked his head sheepishly. “You, on the other hand, I have at least some influence over,” he huffed at Dean.

Sam noticed Dean was gripping his good hand. He chose not to mention it.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked quietly.

Sam shrugged. “Like I’ve been hit by a car.”

“Don’t try to be a comedian, bitch.”

Sam grinned and Dean seemed to relax a little. “I’m glad you’re awake, Sammy. It’s been… quiet this past week.”

Sam smiled and squeezed Dean’s hand gently. He knew what his brother meant, even if he had the emotional capacity of a brick.

Dean finally stepped back and Castiel shuffled a little closer.

“I guess the first thing I should say is ‘thank you’,” Sam hummed, making Castiel blink at him owlishly. “I heard you brought me back from the underworld?”

Castiel cracked a lop-sided smile. “I can’t take all the credit, but I believe I helped the paramedics do their jobs. You should probably thank Raphael too. He was the one who gave you the kiss of life.”

“Don’t be humble, Cas. You saved my life,” grinned Sam. 

“Wasn’t quite as dramatic as when you saved Gabriel’s,” hummed Castiel. “I trust you two are at least on amicable terms, now?”

Sam flushed pink as Gabriel bowed his head in shame.

“Uh… yeah,” mumbled Gabriel. “Speaking of…” He glanced up at Castiel. “I’m um… I’m sorry for yelling at you last week. For the stuff I said to you.” He flicked his gaze to Dean. “For the stuff I said to both of you. I was being an immature ass. I should’ve just listened to you. You were trying to apologise, to show me you cared and I didn’t even attempt to be patient with you. I just lashed out and you didn’t deserve it.”

“We shouldn’t have made a bet about you,” Dean mumbled. “About either of you. You had every right to say and do the stuff you did. We just hope you know how sorry we are.”

“We’d never want to hurt either of you,” Sam said softly. “You’re kinda the best people we’ve ever met. The first people who have genuinely cared about us despite everything we’ve done. And in case we haven’t said it enough, we’re really sorry about the bet.”

“I think we’re all sorry,” commented Castiel. “None of us handled the situation particularly well and we all said and did things we rather regret. However, since that’s all in the past now and we’ve forgiven one another, I think the most important point to focus on is Sam healing.”

Sam bit back a grin when Gabriel’s hand subtly slid into his. “So, is that it?” Asked Sam. “Are we all… good? No more fighting?” Even though he already knew the answer, his heart stuttered a little.

“Providing you don’t throw yourself in front of any more cars, we’re all good,” huffed Gabriel. 

Sam perked up a little and gazed at Gabriel. “So… does this mean you’ll be living with us again in the suite?” Even Dean straightened at that, glancing at Gabriel almost hopefully.

Gabe slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a familiar silver key. “I knew there had to be a reason why I kept this thing.” He paused. “…Unless you want it back?”

Sam shook his head hurriedly. “Stay with us,” he begged unashamedly. 

Gabriel grinned warmly. "You just want me to cook for you," he teased.

"That and kinky sex," winked Sam, making Gabriel snort and Dean and Castiel wrinkle their noses.

“Visiting hours are over,” huffed the same nurse from earlier, tone jarring the playful mood as she popped her head into the room.

Sam nearly flipped her off.

“So which dildo did you want me to get again, babe? The black ten-inch or the glittery twelve-inch?” Asked Gabriel loudly and the nurse’s eyes widened, mouth forming a small ‘O’ before she darted out of the room again, leaving them in peace.

“I’ve missed you,” Sam and Dean said in unison, making Gabriel snicker.

Castiel rolled his eyes with a fond smile and laced his fingers with Dean’s. “Get some rest, Sam. We will see you tomorrow. I’m glad you’re awake.”

Sam smiled and tipped his head in gratitude. “Goodnight, guys. See you tomorrow.”

They wandered off, leaving Gabriel and Sam alone together.

They shared a smile before Gabriel sealed their lips together. “I love you,” he said, lips brushing Sam’s with each word and the younger man shivered at the whispered promise, imaging all that awaited him when he was finally discharged from the hospital. “Heal quickly,” Gabriel breathed. “I need you.”

Sam stole another kiss, this one a little more heated than the last, then Gabriel was standing up and waving to him cheerfully as he glided through the door.

Sam grinned and looked forward to tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter to go! 
> 
> And you guys thought I'd kill off Sam permanently. Pfft ;)


	35. Chapter 35

**Two months later**

With all the emotional turmoil over the past few months, it wasn’t too surprising that Gabriel failed one of his practical modules. Now, he was standing in the suite’s kitchen, frustrated, exhausted and wondering why his Bearnaise sauce kept turning out so lumpy.

Just as he was about to throw the mess away with a tired sigh, Sam slid into the kitchen and gently took the pan off Gabriel and set it to one side, before kissing his lover sweetly on the lips. 

“Stop,” Sam whispered, hands moving to rub at Gabriel’s arms.

Gabriel frowned and shook his head. “I need to make sure I pass my retake. I need to practice.”

“You’ve been practicing all day,” murmured Sam. 

“Because I keep messing up!”

Sam folded him into a hug and Gabriel slumped against his lover’s strong body, mindful of his weak leg.

“I can’t do this,” Gabriel whimpered. “I’m going to fail again.”

Sam stroked his hair soothingly. It was the first time he’d ever heard Gabriel say he couldn’t do something cooking-related. 

“You can do this,” hummed Sam. “I know you can.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and leaned his head against Sam’s chest before releasing a small sigh. “You should be studying for your retakes.” Unlike Gabriel, Sam didn’t have modules. He had, however, failed three of his five exams and whilst he did have extenuating circumstances pertaining to being hit by a car, it still stood that he needed to pass his resits if he wanted to advance into the next year.

“I’ve been studying for hours,” Sam countered. “It’s time we both take a break.”

Gabriel curled his fingers in Sam’s shirt. “I need to get this right, Sam.”

Sam pursed his lips before a memory came rushing back to him. Gabriel made a soft, questioning noise when Sam released him and limped over to the fridge. The older man’s brows drew together in concern at seeing Sam in pain. He hated that it took so long for a break to heal. Sam didn’t even use his right arm as much as he used to, despite the cast having been removed nearly two weeks ago.

“Chop these,” Sam said as he handed Gabriel a single carrot and tomato. Gabriel stared at them, perplexed.

“…Why-?”

“Just chop them,” chuckled Sam and Gabriel hesitated but eventually shuffled off to the chopping board.

After the first slice of carrot, something thwacked Gabriel’s rear and he turned, startled, to find Sam grinning at him, three sticks of celery in his hand.

Gabriel cocked a confused eyebrow. “Should I be concerned?”

“Keep chopping,” chuckled Sam.

Gabriel stared at him for a moment longer before shaking his head and doing as he was told. He gasped when Sam unbuckled his belt and began unzipping his jeans. In under ten seconds, Gabriel’s bare ass was on display to the kitchen.

“Now, what do you want to do first?” Sam bounced the celery against his ass again and Gabriel shuddered at the strange sensation. “Turnip or spaghetti?”

Completely lost now, Gabriel twisted his head to look at Sam and the younger man laughed quietly at his befuddled expression. Gabriel nearly melted when Sam pressed up behind him and wrapped his arms around his stomach tightly.

“I recall us finding a very effective revision technique around February time. I asked you questions and if you answered them correctly, you received a rather… pleasurable prize,” purred Sam.

Gabriel’s eyes brightened at the memory, but Sam wasn’t finished.

“Unfortunately, we only ever tested that technique out for written exams. I figured for practical exams, we need something more… hands-on. I recall you saying something about food play?” He gestured to the celery in his hand.

Gabriel began to laugh, rich and joyous and Sam grinned along with him. “I can’t believe you remember that!”

Sam kissed his shoulder. “It was time I got to spend with you. Of course I remember it.”

Gabriel placed his hand over one Sam had rested over his stomach and a devilish smirk crossed his expression.

“As tempting as all this fruit and veg looks right now, I’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth and I remember you saying something particularly interesting about Nutella…”

Sam nuzzled into his neck with a wicked grin. “Funny how your memory has suddenly returned.”

“You’d better be naked and sprawled over that bed for me by the time I find the Nutella.”

Sam captured his lips hotly and Gabriel was left breathless. When he next managed to open his eyes, the room was already empty and Gabriel nearly tripped over his own jeans in his haste to find the Nutella jar. When he found it, he shed the remainder of his clothes and dashed into the living room to grab a wad of Sam’s revision notes, before finally making his way upstairs into the bedroom. He smiled at the sight of a half-naked Sam awkwardly trying to kick his sock off his sore leg.

Gabriel gently pulled the offending sock off and Sam smiled sheepishly as he helped him undo his jeans and roll them down. He couldn’t resist placing a tender kiss against Sam’s stomach and the younger man instantly relaxed, gazing at him with so much love and adoration, Gabriel nearly forgot all about his devious plan and was ready to just kiss his lover until he was nothing but a purring puddle of goo.

He wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted though and with a smirk, he set Sam’s revision notes beside the younger man’s body and began unscrewing the lid of the Nutella jar.

“Hold up, I thought we were revising for your exams, not mine?” Sam said once he caught sight of his own notes.

Gabriel chuckled. “You were right. I’ve been practicing all day and I need a break. You, on the other hand, have three exams to sit in August and I think we need to find a way to make all that information stick.” He dipped his fingers into the gooey chocolate and Sam’s eyes were glued to him as he smeared the Nutella over his stomach. The coolness was a bit of a shock and Sam jumped a little, but then Gabriel smeared more over his nipples and the insides of his thighs. Gabriel dolloped chocolate onto his palms, the insides of his elbows, chest and the tip of his nose, which made them both grin. Finally, he slathered a generous helping over his soft penis and testicles.

“Get twelve questions correct and you win a prize,” winked Gabriel, smacking Sam’s ass suggestively with his dry hand. Then he licked his fingers clean of chocolate and hummed contentedly at the burst of sweetness across his tongue.

Sam watched him hungrily and Gabriel smirked at the realisation that Sam couldn’t move his arms without disturbing all the chocolate. He cast his gaze to Sam’s notes.

“First question… What components make up the Portal Triad?”

“Hepatic artery, bile duct and portal venule,” said Sam hurriedly and Gabriel bit back a smile at his enthusiasm. He leaned down and licked the tiny blob of chocolate off Sam’s nose before placing a sweet kiss there.

“What do the relative sizes of the portal vein and hepatic artery suggest about oxygen supply in the liver?” Gabriel asked.

“The vein is larger so the blood in the liver is poorly oxygenated as it’s already been through the intestine.”

Gabriel grinned and laved his tongue over the inside of Sam’s right elbow, sucking gently and kissing the soft skin once it was clean.

“What’s a Kupffer cell?”

“Specialised macrophage within the lumen of sinusoids.”

Gabriel shifted to Sam’s palm, lapping at the chocolate there before taking each finger into his mouth and sucking on them suggestively. Once he’d rid Sam’s skin of stickiness, he nuzzled at his wrist and trailed kisses up the length of his arm, watching Sam sigh happily at the care devoted to his aching arm. He kissed the crook of Sam’s elbow and made a note to pay more attention to the damaged limb in future.

After a couple more questions, both of Sam’s arms were clear of chocolate.

“Into which structure do hepatocytes secrete bile?”

“Canaliculus.”

Gabriel ran his tongue messily over Sam’s stomach, sucking and nipping the tender flesh beneath. Sam keened softly, gripping the sheets as he watched Gabriel take his time. When he eventually cleared all the chocolate, Gabriel lingered a little longer, peppering kisses over the broad expanse of skin and dipping his tongue into Sam’s navel, just to hear him whimper. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sam was already half-hard.

He straightened, licked his lips and flicked his gaze to Sam’s revision notes once more. “Which hormone causes the gall bladder to expel bile?”

“…Cholecystokine.”

Gabriel remained put, arching an eyebrow and Sam visibly began to panic at the realisation that he was wrong and he wouldn’t be getting a reward.

“Wait! Cholecystokinin!”

Gabriel grinned and circled his tongue around one of Sam’s nipples before taking the little bud into his mouth. Sam groaned and Gabriel sucked harder. When he was finished, he bit the nub gently and felt Sam weave his fingers into his hair. Gabriel cocked a leg over Sam’s waist, straddling the younger man and when he finally pulled off his nipple, he tweaked the nub between his fingers, making Sam keen.

After two more questions, Sam’s chest and nipples were free of chocolate and Sam’s erection was straining. Smirking, Gabriel dipped his fingers into the Nutella jar and heaped another helping over Sam’s stiff length. Sam thrust his hips upwards with an unashamed moan, but Gabriel quickly drew his hand away, licking it clean and winking at his younger lover cheekily.

“New topic,” smirked Gabriel. “Seven layers of the testes. Go.”

Sam groaned in frustration, but propped himself up on his elbows so he could look at Gabriel.

“Skin, dartos, external spermatic fascia, cremasteric, internal spermatic fascia, tunica vaginalis, tunica albuginea.”

Gabriel dipped his head between Sam’s thighs and lapped at the inside of his right one. Sam parted his legs wider and Gabriel hummed in approval and licked him clean of chocolate. He sprinkled a few nips in for fun and watched Sam grip the sheets tighter. Then, he trailed his lips to Sam’s knee and mouthed kisses over it, travelling lower and lower down the damaged leg until Sam made a soft noise of appreciation. 

Whilst Sam’s bruises had healed, Gabriel knew he still suffered from a fair bit of pain after using his leg (or his arm) for too long and Gabe hated seeing his lover hurt. He gently cupped the back of Sam’s knee and peppered more kisses up the leg, massaging the joint lightly between his fingers and scraping his teeth over hot skin every so often, just to watch his lover melt into the mattress.

“Stunning,” whispered Gabriel and Sam smiled shyly at him before averting his gaze. “Ligaments of the uterus. Go.”

“Um… round, suspensory and ovarian,” Sam mumbled, eyes closed as he became more and more distracted by Gabriel’s tender kisses to his sore leg.

“Good boy,” purred Gabriel, moving to the other thigh and licking the chocolate from it. Sam’s breath hitched a little at the praise and Gabriel arched an eyebrow and stored the reaction away for later inspection. He gave the left leg a similar treatment to the right and by the time he was finished, Sam’s erection was standing proud and flushed, begging to be touched. Gabriel eyed it hungrily.

“Last question, kiddo. What are the stages of spermatogenesis?”

Sam’s eyes were closed. “Proliferation, meiotic, differentiation.”

“Such a clever boy,” cooed Gabriel and Sam’s breath stuttered again, knuckles turning white as he fisted the sheets.

Gabriel curled his fingers around Sam’s hips and flicked his tongue over the head of Sam’s chocolate-covered dick. Sam made a soft, wounded noise and Gabriel smirked and laved his tongue over the head again, tightening his grip on the younger man’s hips when he attempted to thrust upwards.

In one smooth movement, Gabriel traced his tongue over the thick vein of his shaft, clearing a line of gooey chocolate. Sam propped himself up on his elbows and gazed at Gabriel with lust-blown pupils and Gabriel winked at him before wrapping his lips around Sam and sliding all the way to the base. Sam’s inhaled sharply and let out a low groan as Gabriel bobbed his head slowly, up and down over and over. Then, he flattened his tongue over the shaft and picked up the remaining dregs of chocolate with an appreciative moan.

“Gabe,” Sam whimpered, hand coming to tangle in his hair again. The gentle tugging felt amazing against his scalp and Gabriel pulled off Sam’s dick wetly and turned his attention to his balls instead. He ran his tongue over them messily before taking one into his mouth and Sam moaned as he worked them in turn, gently sucking and kissing until they were deliciously sensitive.

Sam scraped his nails over Gabriel’s scalp and Gabriel took the hint and returned to his dick, flicking his tongue over the head once more to taste the pearl of white collecting there. Then, he wrapped his lips around him again and sucked lightly, pinning Sam’s hips down when the younger man involuntarily thrust upwards.

“Stay,” growled Gabriel, smacking Sam’s ass gently.

Sam’s breath stuttered and he nodded, eager to please. Gabriel latched onto him again, sucking a little harder and drawing a whimper from his younger lover. He pulled off with a wet pop.

“Be a good boy and grab that condom for me?” Asked Gabriel, nodding to the packet of condoms and the bottle of lube Sam had thoughtfully laid on the bedside table earlier.

Sam grabbed blindly for a condom and ripped it open. Gabriel bit back a chuckle at his lover’s enthusiasm as Sam sealed their mouths together and rolled the condom onto Gabriel’s own erection. He pushed Sam against the mattress again, practically devouring his mouth and Sam threw his bad arm around him loosely in a desperate attempt to hold him closer. 

It hadn’t skipped Gabriel’s notice that Sam was touch-starved after their three-week hiatus and Gabriel took every opportunity that he could to rectify the problem. 

He raked a hand over Sam’s chest as he plunged his tongue into the younger man’s mouth. Gabriel was a filthy kisser and Sam adored it, proven by how he hooked his good leg over Gabriel’s hip in encouragement. Gabriel’s wandering hand was like a brand, claiming all it touched. It roamed possessively over his stomach and hip and dipped beneath him to squeeze his ass and by then, Sam was rutting upwards desperately, grinding his aching dick against Gabriel’s as best he could with the height difference between them.

Gabriel pulled away suddenly and Sam whined and tried to yank him back down, but Gabriel merely waggled a finger at him and slipped off the bed. “On your front.”

Sam rolled over eagerly, wiggling his ass playfully.

He gasped when cool chocolate was smeared over his hole. Gabriel chuckled warmly behind him and in the next moment, his tongue was sliding over Sam’s hole filthily, catching every drop of sweetness. His tongue dipped inside Sam and the younger man’s body arched and he leaned back against Gabe’s mouth.

“You taste amazing,” teased Gabriel as he spread Sam’s cheeks apart and licked deeper.

When Sam was a whining mess, Gabriel squeezed his ass hard. “Lube,” he commanded.

Sam snatched the lube off the table and Gabriel poured a generous helping over his fingers, immediately slipping one inside Sam and then another.

Sam keened and arched his back. “Gabe,” he begged frantically. “Gabe, I’m ready.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Gabriel quickly coated himself in lube and slid into Sam in one fluid movement. Sam’s forehead fell against the pillow, eyes squeezed tightly shut as Gabriel gripped his hips and began a slow, torturous rhythm. It was tight at first, but Sam quickly opened up and soon enough, Gabriel was peppering kisses down his spine and snapping his hips forwards and backwards, making Sam pant.

Gabriel suddenly curled his fingers around Sam’s dick, jerking his wrist roughly and Sam made a broken sound and pushed back against Gabriel’s hips, trying to mould himself into his lover’s body. Immediately, Gabriel wrapped his free arm around Sam’s stomach, holding him closer.

“I’m right here,” Gabriel whispered against his back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you,” Sam whimpered, still trying to press as much of himself against Gabriel as he could. Gabriel tightened his grip and roughened his thrusts.

“I love you too, kiddo.” He splayed his hand over Sam’s stomach possessively, knowing the action would satisfy at least some of the younger man’s craving for touch. 

“Missed you,” Sam whispered so low, Gabriel barely heard it.

Gabriel’s heart clenched at the reminder of their break-up and he nuzzled Sam’s spine in search of his own comfort. They both had their bad days – days where they were insecure about losing one another again or not being good enough for one another; nights where Gabriel woke up in a cold sweat, frantically searching for Sam and praying that he was still alive; nights where Sam woke up crying, thinking Gabriel despised him and never wanted to see him again and was still taking abuse from his awful brothers.

They were learning to help each other through the bad days.

“I’m here,” breathed Gabriel, thrusting deeply into Sam. “I’ll always be here.” He pressed his lips to Sam’s spine, inhaling his comforting scent. He squeezed Sam’s dick and the younger man shuddered beneath him, barely holding back his orgasm.

Gabriel angled his hips on the next thrust, hitting Sam’s prostate and the younger man cried out, his bad arm ripping from the bed sheets to clutch at the hand Gabriel had splayed over his stomach.

With one more thrust, Sam climaxed and Gabriel quickly followed. He tied off the condom and dumped it on the floor for the moment before flopping onto Sam and kissing his lips a tad desperately. Sam snaked his arms around him and they kissed silently for a long while, petting each other’s skin and stroking one another’s hair in a frantic attempt to just touch one another.

Finally, Gabriel tucked his head under Sam’s chin and curled up beside him, rubbing slow circles over his belly as he did so.

“I was thinking maybe we could try couples’ counselling,” murmured Gabriel, grimacing when Sam tensed beneath him. He quickly leaned up to kiss Sam’s forehead. “Not like that. Don’t ever doubt that I love you, Sam.” Sam cautiously relaxed, so Gabriel settled onto his chest again.

“What I mean is… maybe we need a bit of help working through all these… insecurities. It can’t be healthy the way we cling to each other sometimes and I know I have nightmares of you dying, which are definitely an issue. That and my crappy family history, which I’m pretty sure adds up to a whole mountain of psychological issues.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. “I have plenty of childhood trauma relating to my mom. I… I also have nightmares about you dumping me and telling me you never want to see me again, before getting beaten up by your brothers in some back alley. I keep thinking how I should’ve been there for you that day… should’ve done something…”

Gabriel kissed his chest. “Exactly. That’s why I was wondering if we should think about counselling. Individual counselling seems ridiculous if we’re both going to attend and I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t be willing to say in front of you. So… what do you think?”

Sam nuzzled Gabriel’s hair, running his hand up and down his side. “Maybe? Could be worth a shot?”

“We’d still do everything we usually do,” murmured Gabriel. “We’d still kiss and cuddle and screw each other’s brains out.”

Sam huffed out a laugh and Gabriel smiled with him. “We’d just be less… desperate about it all,” Gabriel whispered.

“Okay,” mumbled Sam after a while. “Okay, let’s do that. As long as we do it together.”

Gabriel grinned and snuggled deeper into his lover as Sam tucked the covers around them both.

Tomorrow was a new day.

 

* * *

 

“So… last night before everyone goes home for Summer,” hummed Dean before turning to his boyfriend. “You looking forward to partying out tonight?”

Castiel smiled. Dean’s palm was warm against his own. They hadn’t planned to go for a stroll in the park, but they had been out for lunch together and since exams were over and there were no more classes, a walk in the sunshine had sounded appealing.

“I am. Three months without everyone… I’m going to miss them,” said Castiel and Dean dropped his gaze almost shyly before flicking his attention back to his lover.

“You’re going to visit me, right? In Kansas?”

Castiel chuckled and pressed a sweet kiss to Dean’s cheek. “You’ll be begging to get rid of me.”

Dean’s face lit up and he tugged Castiel into his side as they walked, slipping an arm around his waist. “Impossible. I won’t let you leave.”

“Hey look! It’s Winchester and his bet.”

Dean bristled and Castiel narrowed his eyes at the unwelcome voice. They turned to find Alastair, Gordon, Bartholomew, Abaddon and Lilith approaching them, repulsive smirks lining their visages. They came to a halt a mere couple of metres from the pair and Dean instinctively tucked Castiel further into his side, tightening his grip on his lover.

“Leave us alone,” Dean growled. “We already know what you did.”

“What did we do?” Alastair grinned. “Enlighten us, Dean. Have you told your bet yet or is that another secret you’ve kept from him?”

“Shut up,” snapped Dean. “No one needs your stupid comments. Go crawl back into the gutter you came from.”

Gordon snorted in amusement. “You’re the whore, Dean. If anyone crawled out of a gutter, it’s you. Want to tell your bet how many people you’ve slept with or is that a secret too?”

“My name is Castiel. It’s not too hard to learn, although I suppose three syllables could prove a strain on a mind such as yours,” Cas drawled, sinking his hand into Dean’s back pocket and smiling when he relaxed a little.

Gordon frowned. “You calling me stupid?”

“Not at all. I’m calling all five of you stupid.”

Gordon paused then scowled and clenched his fists. He looked ready to throw a punch at Castiel, but Alastair held out a hand to stop him. His smile was clearly false as he tossed his gaze to Castiel.

“Obviously, Dean found us interesting enough. He must have slept with each of us at least half a dozen times.” Alastair’s lips drew into a snide smirk. “Just in case you think you’re something special.”

Dean grimaced, ashamed but Castiel merely shrugged. “I suppose he had to sample all of the milk before finally getting to the cream.”

Dean choked back a surprised laugh as Alastair’s face darkened. Behind him, Lilith and Abaddon’s expressions morphed into indignation as Bartholomew narrowed his eyes and Gordon’s knuckles turned white.

“You may think you’re all that, Novak, but we all know Dean will soon get bored of you. You’re just the same as everyone else he dumps,” sneered Alastair.

Castiel smirked. “Are you willing to make a bet on that?” Alastair’s eyes widened a fraction and Cas leaned into his lover’s side pointedly. “If I win, you never speak to us again?”

Alastair’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before a foul scowl settled on his face. “You won’t last. Dean will never be happy with just one person to screw.”

“Or maybe you’re just _that_ terrible in bed,” Castiel hummed airily, smiling when Dean huffed out a laugh beside him and Alastair’s face soured even further.

“What he said,” agreed Dean, grinning at his former group. “You’ve got nothin’ on Cas.”

When no one offered up a response to that, Castiel squeezed Dean’s rear gently and guided his boyfriend away from the group with a pleased smirk. They made it seven steps before Alastair snarled behind them. “You still started as a bet, Novak!”

Castiel snorted and turned to him. “And you finished desperate and obsessed. Don’t you have a life outside of Dean? No wonder he found you boring.” As Alastair spluttered for a response, Castiel whirled on his heel and strolled away with Dean, their hands linked loosely and smiles lighting their faces.

“And I finished with an awesome, sharp-tongued boyfriend,” whispered Dean as they made their way out of the park. “Have I told you recently how in love I am with you?”

Castiel squeezed his hand as his smile widened. “Yes, but feel free to tell me again.”

“I love you,” chuckled Dean, eyes warm and adoring and Castiel stole a quick kiss before continuing their journey.

After a few moments, Dean spoke up again. “I should probably thank your dad for the PSA on sexual harassment too. When he said he’d ‘deal with it’, I thought he was gonna march down to the sports department and tell everyone not to grope me on the field, so you have no idea how impressed I am that he actually kept my name out of everything.”

“I know you didn’t want to cause a fuss, but what those students were doing to you wasn’t right,” said Castiel. “And your lecturer shouldn’t have dismissed your complaint either. Dad called a staff meeting because they should all know the policies on harassment, regardless of a student’s reputation. After that, the lecturers reminded students of the repercussions of unwanted sexual attention and hopefully, you won’t have to put with that stuff anymore.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said softly. “For making me go to your dad, I mean. You didn’t have to go to all that trouble for me.”

“No, but I wanted to because I love you,” huffed Cas. “Plus, Dad thinks you’re great and you might as well take advantage of that.”

“I’m still not used to that.”

“I think he prefers you over me.”

Dean laughed and elbowed his lover lightly. “Maybe I should start calling him ‘Dad’ too.”

“He’d probably adopt you. Not sure how I’d feel about dating my brother.”

“Ooo kinky.”

“Indeed.”

“Did you know he threatened to expel me if I broke your heart again?”

Castiel stumbled a little and turned wide eyes on the grinning Dean. “He _what?_ Wait… when was this?”

“Last day of lectures. I was walking to my car and he was parked next to me. Told me that although he thought I was good for you, if I ever hurt you again, he’d write a report that I’d forcefully pressured one of my teachers into sleeping with me despite knowing it would endanger her career. Lisa Braeden to be precise. Told me he’d be able to expel me on those grounds.”

Cas’ eyes widened further. “That’s blackmail! I can’t believe he’d say something like that to you! That’s disgusting and I’ll be telling him exactly what I think about him threatening to- ”

“Whilst I didn’t force her, it’s not exactly a lie, Cas,” Dean commented. “I did ask Lisa to sleep with me even though I knew what it could do to her career. I’m surprised he managed to find out about it, actually. Surprised Lisa’s still working here after he found out. Probably something to do with consenting adults and all that.”

Cas frowned. “He shouldn’t have threatened you.”

“He’s just protective of you,” chuckled Dean. “I can’t blame him for that.” A pause. “Your dad knows a lot more than he lets on. I don’t know how he figures all this stuff out.”

Castiel’s bottom lip protruded in a small pout. “It’s irritating.”

Dean bit back another laugh and curled his arm around his lover’s hip, tugging him closer. “I’m gonna take it as an official _‘Welcome to the family’_.”

Castiel’s gaze brightened and a brilliant smile lit his face. “That doesn’t scare you off?”

Dean snorted and sealed their lips together.

 

* * *

 

The bass pounded through the worn speakers of the club and the heat from the crowd’s tightly-packed bodies was stifling, giving the air a sweaty, alcohol-pungent smell. Gabriel had managed to snag a table and the entire party defended it and their drinks like dragons protecting their shiny treasures. 

“Just how I wanted to spend my last day here,” drawled Gadreel sarcastically. “Crushed between drunk, sweaty first-years.” He managed to slide out from between said first years with his two drinks and offered one to Hannah as he plopped into a chair. 

“Just because you love being miserable, it doesn’t mean everyone else has to be,” commented Balthazar, dancing ridiculously with a pair of sparkly purple rabbit ears perched atop his head – most likely a gift from the party of giggling women who’d burst in a few minutes earlier.

Gadreel flipped him off and downed half of his drink as Balthazar dragged Hannah to her feet and began twirling her around in time with the music.

The rest of the table watched the pair for a few moments before Gabriel leaned forwards and tapped Cas’ arm.

“What was it you were saying about the driver? The one who hit Sam?” He asked eagerly.

“Yes, of course,” hummed Castiel. “I took a photo of his license plate and turned it over to the police when Sam was in hospital. They called me last week to say they’ve finally caught the owner of the vehicle and he admitted to the hit and run. He’ll be facing jail time.”

Gabriel crowed in victory and took a swig from whatever fruity cocktail he had ordered. “Any idea who he was?”

Castiel shrugged. “Some big business owner called _Richard Roman_. Food industry, I think. I’ve never heard of him.”

Gabriel pulled a face. “Hold up… Dick Roman? Isn’t that the guy who got investigated for poisoning his products and supplying them to restaurants? I’m pretty sure we had a lecture about him. He supposedly put some sort of drug into his food to get people addicted so he could sell more. He was never convicted though.”

Dean snorted. “Figures he’d be caught for something entirely unrelated. Like the Al Capone of our generation.”

Gabriel shrugged. “As long as he’s in prison, I don’t care.” His hand slipped over Sam’s thigh and the younger man smiled and leaned down to kiss his cheek. He couldn’t dance very well on his damaged leg (not that he could dance well to begin with) and standing up for long periods was out of the question. He had almost said no to coming to the club, but then Gabriel had convinced him that tonight was more about spending time with friends before they broke up for the holidays. Last night, they had spent the evening playing videogames and watching movies with Kevin, Garth and Charlie as they had decided to go home this morning, so now it was time to spend the evening with their other friends.

He had to admit; he was enjoying being surrounded by so many people. 

“Hello, Sam. How are you doing?”

He startled at the deep voice and twisted his head to find Raphael and Bela behind him, looking rather shy but smiling softly nonetheless. He felt a smile grace his own lips.

“Hey, guys. Aching a little but otherwise good. You?”

Raphael shrugged. “We’re fine,” he offered quietly. He flicked his gaze to Gabriel and nodded in acknowledgement. Gabriel quirked a lop-sided grin.

“Thanks again for saving my life,” said Sam, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the music. Then he grinned. “And for trying to convince Gabriel to take me back.”

Both Raphael and Bela blinked at that and turned to Gabriel in surprise, whom winked mischievously. 

“You’re welcome,” said Raphael slowly. “It was the least we could do after… after everything.”

Sam and Gabriel’s gazes softened. “Would you like to sit down?” Gabriel asked.

Bela shook her head. “We wouldn’t like to intrude,” she said, glancing around at the busy table.

Gabriel tilted his head. “You won’t be.” He paused. “…Unless you’re here with…” He trailed off, flicking his gaze around the room carefully to see if he could spot Azazel or Ruby.

“We haven’t spoken to them in two months,” said Bela quickly. “We’re here alone.” 

Gabriel cocked a surprised eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Sam merely grinned and patted the empty seat beside him – the one Balthazar had vacated earlier. “You’re welcome to join.”

The pair shared a glance, seemingly stunned by Sam’s invitation, but after a few moments of hesitation they approached the table and Raphael pulled out the chair for Bela before taking Hannah’s empty one. Once they were settled, they looked to Sam almost nervously and when he offered them a bright smile, they slowly returned the expression.

“Oh my- It’s him! Dean, it’s him!” Cas hissed suddenly, slapping Dean’s arm enthusiastically. His lover pulled a face and peered in the direction Cas was staring towards and his eyes widened in awe. 

“Wait, so he still lives here? I thought he moved out months ago?”

Castiel shook his head as the rest of the table turned to see what was so exciting. All they could see was a fairly short man in a tailored black suit, which... was a little odd in a night club. “I thought I heard rummaging in the kitchen last week. At first, I thought it was a burglar but then I put it down to a couple of raccoons in the trash outside. It must have been him looking for food,” muttered Castiel. Then he frowned. “Wait… is he with Meg?”

Sure enough, Meg made a beeline for their table once she spotted them, the mysterious man trailing behind her. When he caught sight of Castiel, he quirked an eyebrow.

“Meg,” greeted Castiel. “Glad you could make it.” He flicked his gaze to the man beside her. “And you brought my housemate with you.”

Meg frowned in confusion. “Fergus is your housemate?” She turned to the shorter man. “How didn’t I know this?”

Fergus tilted his head slightly. “I didn’t realise you were acquainted with… um…”

“Castiel,” Cas offered helpfully and Fergus nodded as though he’d just been testing the other man. Then Castiel frowned. “Wait, I thought your name was Crowley?”

Fergus frowned. “…That’s my surname.”

Dean bit back a laugh as Castiel nodded as though he’d been hit by a revelation. “How do you two know each other?” Asked Dean, letting his boyfriend recover.

“We’re um… we’re just friends,” said Meg awkwardly. Immediately, Gabriel’s eyes twinkled.

“With or without benefits?”

Meg’s cheeks flushed pink but Crowley seemed unfazed as he snaked an arm around Meg’s waist. “Take a wild guess.”

Gabriel grinned. “I would love to hear this story.” 

“When did you get together?” Asked Castiel curiously before frowning at Crowley. “And where have you even lived this past year? I’ve seen you a grand total of… maybe seven times.”

Crowley smirked as though he had a secret that he would take to the grave. He didn’t respond. Meg was even redder than earlier and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “A couple of weeks, okay? Look, let us find some chairs and we’ll tell you the story.”

They prowled away in search of seats and when they returned a few minutes later, the entire table was eager to hear their tale.

All except Gadreel, whose attention had wandered to Balthazar and Hannah on the dancefloor. He smiled softly as Hannah laughed, her whole face brightening with joy as Balthazar swung her around the floor flamboyantly. He was still wearing the bunny ears and now, Hannah was wearing a pair of fluffy bee antennae that jiggled and bobbed uncontrollably atop her head. Every so often, Balthazar would flick one until it sprung forwards and bounced off her nose and she would burst into another fit of giggles and shuffle a little closer to him, her arms around his neck.

Gadreel adored watching Hannah enjoying herself and although he would never admit it, Balthazar was a tonne of fun. The Frenchman was playful and mischievous and if he could make Hannah laugh, then Gadreel was content to let him. After all, the pair probably wouldn’t see one another for a few months once they broke up for the holidays, so Gadreel wasn’t about to interfere, even if Hannah was his girlfriend. He wanted her to have a good time tonight.

Beyoncé’s _‘Single Ladies’_ blared through the speakers a moment later and Hannah jumped a little in excitement before pushing away from the confused Balthazar and launching into the routine from the beginning of the music video. Gadreel chuckled to himself, well-acquainted with his lover’s secret passion for dancing. Balthazar began to laugh a moment later, although it was clear that he was impressed with Hannah’s accuracy. A few other young women began to imitate the video as well, but what shocked Gadreel the most was when Balthazar stood opposite Hannah and started to mirror her movements, obviously very familiar with the dance himself.

Hannah threw back her head in surprised laughter and Gadreel found himself grinning as he watched the pair swivel their hips and roll their shoulders in time with the beat.

Then, the second verse rolled into the chorus and as Hannah rolled her hips in an exact duplicate of the music video, mouthing the lyrics as she went, a young man with broad shoulders and an ugly smirk slid in behind her and curled his fingers into her belt loops.

Hannah faltered, eyes blowing wide as the man began thrusting against her ass, his tipsy friends cheering him on.

Gadreel was standing before he could even register that he’d pushed his chair away from the table. He made to storm over to the abhorrent idiot but Balthazar beat him to it, stealing Hannah from him and putting himself between the pair. The man looked as though he was throwing a couple of slurs at Balthazar, but the Frenchman ignored him and continued to place himself in front of the irritating student each time he tried to get closer to Hannah.

Gadreel relaxed as the man stalked away and he took his seat again, ignoring the odd looks he received from the rest of the table. Beyoncé faded from the speakers and Flo Rida took her place with _‘Low’_. Gadreel watched as Hannah drew closer to Balthazar, slinging her arms around his neck as she swung her hips in time with the music, dropping to the floor every so often and pulling herself up moments later, using Balthazar’s body to help her.

This time, Balthazar didn’t copy her, choosing to watch her instead and Gadreel gazed on curiously as they stared into one another’s eyes, Balthazar’s hand on her hips and Hannah inching closer with every drop until there was barely an inch of space separating them. Gadreel wondered if he should feel jealous that his girlfriend was paying so much attention to Balthazar, but he just couldn’t find it within himself to put a stop to whatever was happening between them.

And then the idiot returned and began grinding against Balthazar’s ass instead.

Balthazar snarled and elbowed the other man away, but the other guy was taller and broader than Balthazar was and he quickly returned, wrapping his fingers around Balthazar’s hips and thrusting harder until the smaller man stumbled into Hannah. Hannah shoved at their unwanted guest with a snapped insult, but that only seemed to make him and his friends laugh. He slid his arms around Balthazar’s middle and pulled him tighter to his chest, humping his ass in time with the music and Balthazar attempted to elbow him away again, but the angle was awkward and he was trapped. When the man began to groan mockingly, Gadreel realised he was already half way across the dancefloor, jaw clenched in fury and eyes narrowed into slits.

Hannah slapped their harasser and the muscular student gripped her arm with a threatening growl, but Gadreel didn’t listen to his words because the altered stance had given him the opportunity to grab the offender’s arm and twist it backwards painfully. The other student yelped and released Hannah, and Gadreel peeled him off Balthazar with single-minded determination, towering over the other man ominously.

“Go away,” he snarled, satisfied when the other student began to rub at his arm. For a moment, he squared up to Gadreel and that was when Gadreel noticed his tented jeans and the stench of alcohol clinging to his clothes.

“’M busy. Piss off,” the other student slurred before reaching for Balthazar again, whom looked as though he would bite his hand if it got any closer.

Gadreel grabbed his arm again and twisted it high up his back until he cried out in pain. Then he shoved him over to his friends with a harsh ram of his shoulder into the other man’s back and the drunk student stumbled onto the floor before dragging himself to his feet and clenching his fists as he turned to glare at Gadreel.

Gadreel didn’t really know what made him do it – maybe alcohol or a desire to prove a point to the harasser – but he gently turned Hannah and Balthazar away from the glaring student, sidled up behind Balthazar and let his hands fall to his hips, holding them possessively as he lightly rutted against Balthazar’s ass in time with the music.

He frowned at his own actions the second Balthazar’s breath hitched, but he didn’t get time to pull away because Balthazar was suddenly grinding back against him, wriggling his hips and arching his back until he was practically sliding up and down Gadreel’s entire body.

Maybe they’d had too much to drink.

Still, Gadreel didn’t pull away. If anything, he tightened his grip on Balthazar’s narrow hips and glanced over to the other student with a challenge in his gaze and smirked in satisfaction when the other man could do nothing but stand there helplessly with his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed.

Balthazar shifted slightly and Gadreel turned to find Hannah sliding in front of them both, Balthazar’s hands rising to her hips as she pressed closer to him, dancing just as sinfully as the two of them were.

They’d definitely had too much to drink.

Gadreel licked his lips as Hannah rolled her hips into Balthazar’s crotch, continuing her previous dance of arching and dropping and sliding back up Balthazar’s body. Now Gadreel was so close to them, he could see the hunger in their gazes as they kept eye contact with one another and Gadreel noticed that with every press of her crotch against Balthazar’s, the other man’s jeans would tent that little bit more.

With Hannah’s next roll of her hips, Gadreel jerked his own forwards and Balthazar let out a soft moan as he was pinned between Hannah and Gadreel’s own hard bulge, thoughts of their harasser entirely forgotten.

Gadreel had always considered himself resolutely straight. He had never been interested in men and whilst he had sampled a couple of gay porn magazines, he hadn’t felt the least bit of arousal from them. He had always been attracted to women only; their soft bodies and pretty lips and delicate features. He was clearly straight and he’d never thought any more of the topic.

However, with Balthazar’s hard muscles plastered against his chest and his angular hips caught beneath his fingers and all the delicious whimpers he was making as Hannah moved against him… Gadreel was beginning to rethink the whole ‘straight’ thing.

He should have got drunk sooner.

He dropped his lips to Balthazar’s shoulder and mouthed kisses into his warm skin and Balthazar gasped sharply. He tried to wriggle out of Gadreel’s grip, but Gadreel snaked an arm around his middle and slowly worked his way up his neck, peppering kisses and sucking tiny bruises into his tender skin until Balthazar relaxed against him again.

“This is wrong,” Balthazar whispered, a tiny groan escaping his lips. “You and Hannah- ”

“Both want you,” Hannah breathed against his lips, interrupting him with a heated kiss.

When they parted, Balthazar blinked back at her, dazed. “Wait… but I always thought Gadreel was straight?”

Hannah snorted. “Maybe he was. Then he met you.” She claimed his lips again, pressing her body flush with his and humming in approval as his crotch pushed into hers with every gentle thrust of Gadreel’s. Her hands slid over Balthazar’s chest possessively and one of Gadreel’s hands slid beneath his shirt to rub small circles over the hot skin of his waist.

Balthazar melted between them, tugging Hannah closer as he plunged his tongue into her mouth and Gadreel gazed at them both hungrily, licking his own lips as he enjoyed the sight of them tasting one another.

Suddenly, Balthazar heaved himself away from them both, hands held out and eyes wide. “I can’t do this,” he said frantically, shaking his head. “I can’t be your third wheel, or friend with benefits or whatever it is you want me to be. I’m not…” He ran a hand through his hair, stressed. “You can’t expect me to have sex with my two best friends and not develop feelings for you both. Feelings stronger than those I already have for you both,” Balthazar confessed, ducking his head guiltily. “I can’t go through another broken heart. I’ve had three already. I can’t do five.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. But I just can’t.”

Gadreel watched Balthazar threaten to crumble before him and his heart ached. He wanted to kiss his hurt away, stroke his back and pet his hair and tell him how gorgeous he was. He wanted to wake up with Balthazar and Hannah in his arms and hold them both until it was time to get up. He wanted to cook for them and make them smile and have them roll their eyes at his awful attempts at jokes. He wanted to tease them and cuddle with them when they watched a movie together. He wanted to be there for them both when they needed someone to support them. He wanted to watch them fall apart as they tumbled into bed together, wanted to hear them moan his name as they writhed beneath him. He wanted to watch them explore each other and hear them beg for one another. He wanted to watch them grin at each other and roll their eyes at them both when they ganged up to poke fun at him. He wanted to watch them slowly fall in love with one another.

He blinked at his own thoughts. So much for being straight.

Oh well.

He watched Hannah fold Balthazar into her arms, shooting him a sharp glance as though asking if she had permission to share herself with Balthazar. Gadreel offered her a reassuring smile and Hannah relaxed and drew Balthazar into a deep, adoring kiss, ignoring the gyrating, sweaty bodies around them. She leaned close to his ear and whispered something that was lost in the headache-inducing music. Whatever she said made Balthazar’s eyes widen and his mouth fall open, so Gadreel took the opportunity to wrap his arms around them both and steal a long, ravishing kiss from Balthazar.

“So… apparently, I have a weakness for French men now,” Gadreel breathed against his lips. “Especially those who bully me constantly and steal my girlfriend whilst wearing sparkly bunny ears.”

Balthazar’s eyes widened comically and he made to snatch the ears from his head, only for Gadreel to grab his wrist and steal another long, slow kiss. “Or maybe I’ve just been slowly falling for you because you’re actually charming and witty and I genuinely love our banter, especially when it makes you smile so brightly that your eyes sparkle.” Gadreel smiled warmly. “That and I love watching your relationship with Hannah develop and I can’t imagine the two of us being without you.”

Balthazar was speechless for once in his life and Hannah snuggled closer to him, slipping her arms tighter around his waist.

“I don’t want to go without seeing you for the next three months,” she whispered. “This isn’t just about sex, Zar. We want you for far more than a quick roll in the sheets, right Gadreel?”

Gadreel nodded easily, rubbing Balthazar’s back when the younger man looked between them in shock. Eventually, Balthazar gulped and he curled his fingers into Gadreel’s shirt and snaked an arm around Hannah.

“…You’d be happy with this? With the three of us? No jealousy or bitterness or feelings of doubt? This is what you want?”

They nodded and Balthazar relaxed, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. “We could try,” he whispered.

Hannah squealed in excitement and threw her arms around Balthazar’s neck, plastering herself across his front and burying her face into his neck. “You have no idea how many times I’ve watched you two pine for each other through longing stares and sad little smiles,” she huffed, making both men blink in surprise. “I was genuinely shocked when I found out you two had never dated. Especially when you both thought Gadreel was straight.” She scoffed and snuggled back into Balthazar with a happy sigh.

“I didn’t realise our banter was that flirtatious,” drawled Gadreel and Hannah rolled her eyes and mimed gagging. 

“I’ve had to deal with your UST every day! I should get a medal for that amount of patience.”

Balthazar nuzzled her hair with a smile and hummed when Gadreel raked his fingers through his hair and kissed his temple.

“How about we go back to my house tonight and reward you with a bottle of wine and a hot, steamy threesome?” Gadreel purred, pressing a kiss to Hannah’s head as well.

Balthazar looked a little stunned at Gadreel saying anything saucy but then Hannah’s eyes twinkled as she glanced up slyly at the older man. “I could take you both at once,” she whispered and Balthazar’s mouth dried up and his heart pumped a little faster.

Gadreel hummed contemplatively at the thought and Balthazar already had his hands around their arms as he dragged them towards the door with a rushed ‘goodbye’ to their smirking table.

 

* * *

 

It was the early hours of the morning when the music began to wind down and the club’s staff began clearing glasses from the tables and floors. The majority of students had left around an hour ago, leaving only a few stragglers to remain. Dean and Castiel’s friends had left tipsy but happy, and only Dean and Castiel themselves lingered at the club, slow dancing to one of Meatloaf’s power ballads.

The staff kept shooting them dirty looks, practically begging for them to leave and after a while, they did. They stumbled out into the fresh air, clinging to each other and chuckling quietly to themselves as they discussed all that had happened that evening. Dean called an Uber and they found a bench to plop into whilst they waited, arms curling around one another as they chatted softly.

“You will visit, won’t you?” Asked Cas, words slurring a little with a combination of alcohol and exhaustion as he leaned his head against Dean’s shoulder.

Dean tugged him close and nuzzled his hair. “’Course,” he mumbled. “You gonna visit me?”

Castiel nodded slowly, eyes closing as he relaxed into Dean’s familiar heat.

The night air was still and warm and the streets were empty of people due to the hour. The bench they had chosen was poorly lit and what street lamps were lit flickered quietly in and out of darkness.

Dean frowned and wrapped his arms around Castiel protectively. Cas didn’t seem to mind the treatment and he cuddled up to Dean happily and mouthed kisses over his neck, his own arms snaking around Dean. Dean cupped his cheek gently and claimed his lips in a tender kiss and when they parted, Castiel continued his mission of kissing every inch of Dean’s neck.

After a little while, Cas nipped at his throat and Dean hoisted him onto his lap, arms still wrapped around him protectively as he tilted his head back and allowed the smaller man to work on his throat. Delighted by the new position, Cas set to work sucking and nipping at his throat, fingers wrapping possessively around Dean’s broad shoulders. A couple of minutes later, Castiel tilted Dean’s head forwards and captured his lips again, this time a lot less innocently and Dean lapped inside his mouth, savouring the taste of sweet alcohol clinging to his tongue. He would never understand how Cas always tasted so good.

“Gonna miss you,” Castiel breathed against his lips. “Don’t wanna leave you.”

Dean shivered at the gravelly tone. He would never stop loving Cas’ voice.

“I’ll come over,” he promised, one palm sliding down Castiel’s back to grab a handful of ass cheek. He squeezed the soft flesh before smoothing circles over the area. “Take you on dates and treat you right. Kiss you every night and tell you how amazing you are.” He nuzzled into Cas’ cheek and left a doting kiss there.

Castiel sighed contentedly and leaned their foreheads together as his hand rode into Dean’s hair. He scratched lightly at his lover’s scalp and Dean melted into his touch. They shared another kiss, slow and open-mouthed and Dean tightened his grip on Cas’ ass as the smaller man thoroughly claimed his mouth.

One hot kiss turned into two, which then rolled into three and soon, Cas was grinding against his lap, their jeans tented as they panted into one another’s mouths.

“Wanna suck you off,” Cas whispered against his lips before nipping at the bottom one and brushing his tongue across it in soothing.

Dean growled in approval and ravished Cas’ mouth. “Can’t wait.”

Castiel kissed back eagerly, one hand sliding to the tent in Dean’s jeans and closing over it possessively. “Wanna do it here.”

Dean inhaled sharply and glanced around. There was no one there. Still…

“Wait for the cab, Angel,” Dean whispered. “Then I promise you can do anything you want to me.”

Castiel began rubbing the bulge in his jeans and Dean groaned and rocked his hips into his palm.

“Want you now,” Cas whispered, words lightly slurred.

Dean glanced around again. The streets were completely empty and their bench was shrouded in darkness anyway…

“I’ll warn you if the cab comes,” Dean murmured as he unbuckled his belt. Castiel’s face lit up and he unbuttoned his lover’s jeans eagerly, admiring the tent of his boxers.

He crouched down as Dean leaned back. He nuzzled the younger man’s bulge for a few moments, inhaling his comforting scent before hooking a couple of fingers around his waistband and sliding his underwear down to free up his straining erection.

Dean threaded his fingers through short tufts of dark hair as Cas’ hands came to rest on his bare hips. Then, Cas began to nose at the tight curls of hair around his base and Dean cupped his head a little more securely, that same protective urge from earlier washing over him. Cas was his and he was going to take good care of his lover from now on. He needed to prove that he was even half as good as what Castiel deserved.

A tongue flicked briefly over his shaft and he exhaled quietly, glancing down at Castiel. The older man’s intense, blue gaze snapped up to meet his and he grinned playfully, making Dean’s own mouth curve into smile as he ran his fingers through Cas’ hair. Dean’s heart pulsed steady and strong in his chest – the kind of beat that solidified just how in love he was with the man in front of him and Cas must have spotted something in his expression, for his gaze turned warm and adoring and he ducked his head without breaking eye-contact and laved his tongue over Dean’s shaft once more.

Dean tightened his grip in Cas’ hair and suddenly, Cas was on him; swallowing him down and smoothing his tongue over him relentlessly as he bobbed his head. A choked groan escaped Dean’s throat and Cas parted his legs a little wider to allow himself better access. He sucked and scraped his teeth gently over Dean’s hard dick and Dean let his head fall backwards against the wall, eyes closing as his lover imitated a professional porn star.

After a few minutes of merciless sucking and incredible tongue work, Dean accidentally bucked his hips upwards and Cas gagged in surprise and pulled off him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Sorry, Cas,” Dean rushed out, darting forwards to cup his lover’s face in his hands and check that he was alright, but Cas easily brushed him off with a shake of his head.

“Do it again. I’ll be ready this time,” he whispered, dipping back down to take Dean into his mouth once more.

Dean’s breath hitched. “…You sure?”

Cas gave him a thumbs-up, lips already wrapped around his length. Dean bit back a laugh because he shouldn’t be snickering about Cas’ hand gestures when the man was sucking him off. Still, he must have made some sort of sound because Cas caught his gaze and grinned up at him again, lips stretched wide around him.

Slowly, Dean rocked his hips upwards and he groaned as Cas took him in stride, fingers curled around his hips as he hummed happily as though Dean was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Dean jerked his hips again and soon, his fingers were clutching Cas’ hair as he pushed into his mouth over and over, entranced with the way Cas swallowed around him, seemingly at ease. His mouth was warm and wet and every so often, his tongue would drag itself up Dean’s entire length, teasing at his slit and when Cas slipped his fingers around his balls to play with them, Dean was lost.

He came with a quiet groan, spilling down Cas’ throat and Castiel pulled off him with a smirk and a wet pop. Dean’s mouth dried up as he watched Cas lick his lips smugly and he zipped himself up again and pulled his boyfriend into his lap, kissing him heatedly. He lapped inside his mouth, tasting the remnants of himself on his lover’s tongue, then began to unbutton Cas’ trousers, making the older man chuckle against his mouth. The sound died on his tongue though when Dean gripped his straining erection, to be replaced by a soft, needy moan when Dean brushed his thumb over the slit. His tongue plunged inside Cas’ mouth again, dominating their kiss as his fist pumped Castiel roughly and the older man melted against him with a contented sigh, arms slung around his neck as he tried to press closer to Dean. He thrust into Dean’s fist, hips rolling in time with Dean’s movements and Dean couldn’t help but weave one hand into dark hair and slide the other into the back of Cas’ trousers to squeeze his bare ass. 

Headlights caught Dean’s attention and he cursed softly as the car began to slow. 

“Cab’s here,” Dean breathed against his lover’s lips and Cas made a soft noise of protest and curled a hand around Dean’s fist, thrusting into him a little harder.

“Sit behind the driver’s chair and he won’t be able to see as I jack you off,” Dean whispered.

Castiel perked up excitedly at the idea and it only served to confirm Dean’s suspicions that Cas was a bit of an exhibitionist. 

The older man buttoned himself up with a wince and Dean ravished his mouth once more before waving to the taxi. The driver eyed them suspiciously, but they smiled innocently at him as they entered the backseat and rattled off Dean’s address. There was no way they were sleeping in separate beds tonight.

The car set off again and Dean slipped his hand into Cas’ pants, all whilst keeping light conversation up with the driver.

They were caught near the end of their journey and promptly tossed out of the taxi, leaving Cas unsatisfied but both of them laughing at the driver’s horrified expression as he realised what they were doing behind him.

They embarked on the ten-minute walk to the suite, stealing kisses and fevered touches under the starry sky and they barely made it into Dean’s room before Cas was on Dean again, tearing clothes off him and shoving him onto the bed. Dean was enthusiastic in his reply as he claimed Cas’ mouth and peeled him out of his clothes. The walk had got him all hot and bothered because Cas had clever fingers, a wicked tongue and a filthy mouth. There were no doubts that he belonged to Castiel tonight.

“Ass-up,” Cas growled against his lips and Dean scrambled to comply, wiggling his hips teasingly.

He yelped when Cas slapped his ass. “Lube,” Castiel ordered.

Dean hauled his drawer open and grabbed a little bottle, tossing it to his lover eagerly. He breaths shook when Cas slathered the cool liquid all over his hole and he leaned into his touch when Cas slipped a single, slicked finger inside him.

“Condom,” Cas commanded, one hand caressing the cheek he’d slapped earlier.

“No,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Wanna feel you.”

Castiel kissed his ass cheek. “Are you sure?”

Dean nodded. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Cas hummed in approval and Dean heard the quiet squelch of lubricant being applied to Cas’ length as he continued to finger Dean open. Another finger slipped inside him, stretching him and Dean pressed his forehead against the pillow. 

“I’m ready, Cas,” he whispered.

Castiel paused before pressing his lips to the bottom of Dean’s spine and trailing a line of kisses up to the point between his shoulder blades. His fingers curled around Dean’s waist as he eased his way inside his lover’s hole and Dean grunted a couple of times before settling around his lover’s girth.

“Okay?” Cas whispered against his back and Dean nodded, smiling when a hand slipped over his stomach, Cas practically draped on top of him.

The older man moved slowly at first and Dean exhaled deeply at the stretch. Cas was warm and solid above him; a lean wall of muscle keeping Dean in place. 

“Harder,” Dean whispered.

Cas kissed his shoulder and snapped his hips forwards, making Dean groan. The older man held Dean closer, a strong arm keeping him still as he harshened his thrusts until there was a quick beat of skin slapping skin. 

“I’m yours,” Dean breathed, leaning back into each thrust. “Always yours.”

Cas’ other arm wound around Dean’s stomach as he lay his cheek against his shoulder, listening to the sounds of their bodies moving together. He knew that Dean was insecure about his own worthiness regarding being in a relationship with him. He knew that Dean felt as though he had to prove himself. He knew that Dean still felt guilty about all the people he’d slept with and about Rhonda and Eve. He knew that Dean hated himself for making the bet. He knew that Dean was afraid of losing him, of Cas being disgusted by him, just like John Winchester was.

Castiel also knew that he loved Dean and he would do everything he could to make him see that he was worthy of love, no matter how long it took.

“I know,” Cas murmured into his shoulder as he hugged Dean closer, taking in the familiar leather and whisky scent. 

“You will come to see me over Summer, won’t you?” Dean asked, voice barely a whisper and Cas’ heart ached at the fear and self-depreciation in his tone. Dean was scared that this would be the last time they saw each other. 

He pulled out of Dean and the younger man whined, hand reaching behind him blindly as he frantically searched for Castiel. Cas flipped him onto his back and claimed his lips in a searing kiss, tongue mapping out his mouth thoroughly as he straddled Dean and tangled his fingers in his hair.

“By the time Summer’s over, those bow-legs of yours will have an extra three inches between them,” purred Castiel, hitching said legs over his hips.

Dean huffed out a laugh, which tapered off into a breathy moan when Cas slid into him again and began pounding into him relentlessly, hitting his prostate every so often just to tease him. He clutched at Cas’ back and crushed their mouths together again and as pressure built inside Cas’ stomach, he draped himself over Dean’s body and arced his free arm around his back until they were pressed together tightly, bodies slick with sweat and pants falling from their lips.

When one of Dean’s hands trailed to his ass and squeezed hard, Cas’ rhythm faltered and he flooded Dean’s channel with a soft cry. Dean shuddered as Cas gave a few final thrusts and then he was coming untouched, gripping Cas tighter as he made a mess of their bellies.

Castiel didn’t move for a little while, his soft dick nestled inside Dean’s hole as he stroked Dean’s cheek gently. They shared a few tender kisses before Cas let his mouth trail to his lover’s neck, where he sucked a small bruise into otherwise flawless skin. 

Dean huffed in amusement and smoothed a palm over his back, letting Cas mark him up like a dog stating its territory.

“Don’t forget to pee on me too,” Dean snorted when Cas moved to his shoulder and began work on another hickey. As punishment, Cas rolled his hips and Dean groaned loudly at the friction against his oversensitive hole. Despite that, he grabbed a handful of Cas’ ass and the older man arched an eyebrow before testing the movement again.

Dean cursed quietly under his breath but couldn’t deny that he loved the sensation of Cas’ hot length inside his overstretched channel. Eyes widening a little, Cas snapped his hips forwards again into the soggy mess of Dean’s hole and watched hungrily as his lover’s lips parted in bliss. 

“More,” Dean begged unashamedly and Cas didn’t care that they were both soft and overstimulated. He nuzzled into his lover’s neck and slid in and out in a steady rhythm, feeling Dean’s muscles tense and relax around him with every movement. He panted softly, relishing the wet sound of their bodies pushing together and every thrust set his nervous system alight with too much sensation and yet, he continued, because Dean was whining desperately beneath him, writhing and clutching at him and Castiel couldn’t tear his eyes away.

When Dean’s hands flew to the bed sheets, gripping them until his knuckles turned white and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, Castiel pulled out and shoved two fingers inside him instead, massaging his prostate until his lover was arching off the mattress and crying out.

“Cas,” he pleaded, body tense and far too over-sensitised. Cas smirked and tweaked a nipple and Dean shouted desperately before Castiel finally removed his fingers and kissed his lover’s sweaty temple. “Beautiful.”

Dean’s cheeks reddened, so Cas wrapped his fingers around his soft dick and suddenly jerked his wrist, making Dean cry out again, before he rolled off the bed and plodded into the bathroom to find them both a damp cloth. When he returned, Dean was practically shaking and Cas couldn’t help but trail a finger over his balls, watching as tears rolled down Dean’s cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut. Cas smiled and kissed them away before gently cleaning Dean up and kissing him sweetly each time he whimpered.

He cleaned himself up and towelled the pair of them dry before crawling onto the bed once more and tucking them both under the covers. He snuggled into Dean, resting his head against his chest and he smiled again when Dean kissed his hair silently and laced their hands together before turning the lights off.

“Sadist,” Dean whispered into the darkness.

Castiel snickered. “Masochist,” he retorted quietly.

Dean held him tighter. “Not my fault you’ve got a magic dick.”

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed happily. “Not my fault you’re so gorgeous and addicting to touch.”

Dean fell silent for a minute and Castiel could practically feel his embarrassment burning through his face.

“I’m in love with you,” Dean murmured sincerely.

Castiel wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and within a few minutes, they were asleep.

 

* * *

 

**Ten months later**

Gabriel smiled as he glanced at his box of cookies proudly. Despite their simplicity, cookies had always been one of his favourite treats to bake and since his final year exams were fast approaching, he’d been baking ample amounts of crumbly goodness to stave off stress. Sam and Dean were most pleased and he’d even spotted Castiel stealing a few treats off the counter when he thought no one was watching.

He grinned at the thought of the little family he’d somehow built for himself.

The past academic year had been a whirlwind of emotions and activity. He still couldn’t quite believe how far he’d come from the beginning of second year – back when he was living in that husk of an apartment and barely eating one meal a day.

He glanced down at his soft stomach. Maybe he could do with cutting down on the sweet stuff. 

He shrugged and made his way out of the nutrition department. He had a shift at _The Roadhouse_ tonight but he didn’t mind because Sam had said that he would swing by for a drink with Raphael, Bela, Kevin, Charlie and Garth, so he was actually looking forward to seeing everyone.

He came to a halt when he spotted two familiar faces lounging on a bench opposite the building entrance. He narrowed his gaze and marched onwards, ignoring them entirely as they rose to their feet and began trailing him. He made it to the nearby children’s park before a hand landed on his shoulder and non-too-gently twirled him around.

“Gabriel, I see you’ve grown fatter.”

Gabriel stared at Michael, unimpressed. “I see you’ve grown uglier.”

Michael snorted and gave his younger brother a once-over, lip curling in distaste at the quality of his clothes. “Got yourself involved in another bet? Either that or you’ve got a pimp.”

Gabriel’s mouth drew into a thin line as he hugged the box of cookies closer to his chest. “Actually, I’m still with Sam. Y’know, the guy who threw himself in front of a car for me last year after you tried to break us up?”

Michael blinked in mild surprise as Lucifer eyed the box of cookies. 

“Basically, he was so sick of you he tried to kill himself,” snorted Lucifer, making a grab for the cookies and grinning when Gabriel took a step backwards with a thick scowl.

“No,” snapped Gabriel. “He saved my life by pushing me out of the way and landed himself in hospital. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

“Or guilt,” shrugged Michael, uncaring. “He still made a bet about you. We were only trying to tell you the truth since he seemed intent on keeping it from you. I see you don’t care about honesty in your relationship. I thought we’d taught you better than that. Oh well.”

Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “You and our parents disowned me. You taught me nothing. _Hey!_ ”

Lucifer smirked as he snatched the box from Gabriel’s hands and inspected it hungrily. Inside were two types of cookies: vanilla and white chocolate-chip. Lucifer tore the lid open as Gabriel sagged in defeat.

Michael watched Lucifer in amusement before frowning as a flash of gold caught his eye. He grabbed Gabriel’s hand, ignoring his little brother’s protest, and dragged it upwards. His frown deepened at the sight of an intricate silver and gold ring, shaped like a feather, wrapped around Gabriel’s fourth finger.

Gabriel snatched his hand back and shielded the ring protectively with his other hand.

“You’re engaged,” Michael scowled.

“Yes,” Gabriel sneered, feeling a sense of triumph when Michael pursed his lips in irritation. His older brother had never managed to find a girl that hadn’t dumped him or cheated on him. 

“You never told us,” huffed Michael and Gabriel scoffed at that.

“Obviously. You’re not exactly invited to the wedding.”

Michael pouted. “Mother will be most displeased.”

“I couldn’t give a crap what Mother thinks,” said Gabriel, watching as Lucifer snagged a chocolate cookie and devoured it before picking up a second. “She hates that I’m bi, so why should she care about not being invited to my Big Gay Wedding?”

“I don’t understand why Sam wants to marry you anyway,” commented Lucifer as he handed the box to his older brother. “I mean, what have you got to offer? Crippling debt and childish pranks? You’ll probably be divorced within a year.”

“Like you were?” Gabriel shot back and Lucifer scowled.

“She didn’t deserve me,” he said airily.

Gabriel snorted. “No, she definitely didn’t.”

Lucifer’s scowl deepened and once Michael had finished choosing his vanilla cookie (as it was his favourite flavour), Lucifer replaced the lid on the box and shook the contents roughly until the cookies were reduced to tiny crumbles at the bottom of the container. He then shoved the box into Gabriel’s hands again, watching as the younger man stared at the ruined treats in dismay.

“Thanks,” Gabriel deadpanned before walking a little further into the children’s park, heading towards _The Roadhouse._

Michael and Lucifer followed him with matching smirks.

“So… are you the girl in this relationship?” Asked Lucifer smugly. “Are you going to walk down the aisle in a wedding dress?”

Gabriel frowned but remained silent, so Lucifer chuckled and slung an arm around his shoulders. “I bet you are. It always took you forever to brush your hair in the morning.”

Michael slithered up behind them. “Have you decided on how you’ll have your makeup yet?” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes and shoved Lucifer off him, turning his attention to the swing set, where a few children were competing to see who could swing the highest. He smiled softly.

Michael followed his gaze and chuckled. “Whom gets whom pregnant?”

Lucifer cackled beside them, but his laughter abruptly cut off and he stopped dead in his tracks, holding his stomach with a frown.

Gabriel began to smirk.

Michael cast Lucifer a curious glance as the younger man began to shift restlessly on the spot and Lucifer shook his head before taking a step forwards and coming to halt again, a confused expression on his face.

“Everything alright?” Gabriel drawled.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes as Michael watched their younger brother suspiciously. “What have you done to him?”

Gabriel’s smirk grew and he found a suitable place to dump the remainder of the cookies. Then, he winked at his brothers and whistled cheerily as he continued his journey through the park.

Lucifer and Michael trailed after him slowly and it was apparent that Lucifer was beginning to struggle with walking as he clutched at his stomach. He found a park bench and collapsed into it, groaning quietly. Michael paused to watch his brother, but straightened when he suddenly felt his underwear beginning to tighten.

Gabriel grinned brightly at them. “You really shouldn’t have eaten those cookies.”

Their heads snapped up to glare at him. “What did you put in them?” Demanded Michael as he covered the front of his trousers with his hands. They were beginning to tent and he was praying no one noticed. Lucifer, on the other hand, had gone sweaty and wide-eyed as he shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

“Well, let’s see,” hummed Gabriel, drawing the explanation out. He pointed at Michael. “You ate a vanilla cookie so you’ve basically ingested about half a packet of Viagra.” He pointed to Lucifer. “And you ate a chocolate cookie so you’ve just had an overdose of laxatives.”

Both men’s eyes widened and Michael looked around, frantically trying to cover his rapidly-growing erection.

Gabriel laughed and winked at them both. “You can thank Sam for the Viagra idea.”

“Gabriel!” Hissed Michael, cheeks flaming red. “We’re in a park! Where are we supposed to go now that we’re…?” He gestured to his crotch and Gabriel shrugged.

“Figure it out yourselves. I’ve got to be at work in thirty minutes.” He turned his back on them and started towards the exit to the park.

Lucifer launched out of the bench and gripped his shoulder tightly. “Take us to a bathroom,” he growled furiously, hunched over as he held his stomach.

Gabriel smirked. “No.”

Lucifer dug his nails into his brother’s skin. “Take us to a bathroom, or you’ll regret it.”

“Find one yourselves.” Gabriel glanced around quickly and noticed parents and children were beginning to look over at them curiously. He smirked. _Perfect._

“So, help me, Gabriel,” snarled Lucifer. “If you don’t take us to a bathroom right now, I’ll make that time in the alley look like child’s play. There won’t be a bone in your body that isn’t broken!”

Gabriel’s expression darkened and he flicked his gaze to his brother. “Enjoy the shits,” he whispered. Then he whirled on his heel, shoving Lucifer away from him as he plastered on a disgusted and thoroughly horrified expression.

“You two are sick!” He yelled loudly. “Getting off to little kids playing in a park? What is wrong with you?” He wrinkled his nose at Michael. “Oh, that’s just gross! Do you actually have a hard-on right now? Perverts!” 

Michael and Lucifer’s eyes widened in horror and their heads swivelled from side to side as they watched parents glare at them in disgust, some snapping photos and others beginning to storm over to them.

“Gabriel,” hissed Michael desperately. “Please, stop!” He flatted his palm against his very prominent erection. “We’re sorry, okay? Just… just get us out of here!”

“No! I won’t take a picture of those kids on the slide! I’m not adding fuel to your disgusting little spank bank!” Gabriel cried indignantly, shaking his head to add to the show. “I’m done with you two. I’m calling the police. Our kids aren’t safe with you two on the streets!” 

He marched away with a subtle wink at the pair, catching a glimpse of irate parents approaching his stammering brothers before he left the park.

He was still snickering to himself as he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialled a familiar number.

“Samshine? Hey! So, they ate the cookies…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys asked for a smutty last chapter and I hope I met expectations!
> 
> A big thank you to JenSpinner for the laxative idea ;) (Yes I know neither drug works that quickly, but artistic license and all that!)
> 
> Aaaaand... that's all folks! The end! This has been a fun fic to write and I hope it was fun to read. I've loved each and every one of your comments and a big thank you to those who take the time to comment - praise and constructive criticism! You guys are what keep the story moving forwards.
> 
> As for future stories, I have a request in the works and if anyone else has any requests for me, just go to my Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/dancing.dog.92), type your idea out and if I think it's something I can do reasonably well, I'll let you know! Happy fic surfing!


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